


A Maiden’s Voyage

by Mystic_of_the_West



Category: Titanic
Genre: Adoption, Death in Childbirth, F/F, F/M, Infant death in Childbirth, M/M, Making Love, Masturbation, Panic Attacks, Period Piece, Pregnancy, dramatic love story, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:02:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 120,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24773578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystic_of_the_West/pseuds/Mystic_of_the_West
Summary: Set a little more than a year before the tragic sinking of the RMS Titanic, two young maidens Elizabeth and Rose journey forth on the voyage of life. They explore their lives in a world that embraces illusion. They embrace their authenticity in a world that traps. They strive for connection with each other, themselves, and others. This is their story on their maiden voyages of life.
Relationships: Original Character/ Cal Hockley, Original Characters/Original Characters, Rose DeWitt Bukater/ Jack Dawson, Ruth DeWitt Bukater/ Original Character
Comments: 32
Kudos: 34





	1. A Mournful Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: the character Rose DeWitt Bukater and Ruth DeWitt Bukater belong to James Cameron and Paramount Pictures. They are a wonderful inspiration.  
> Any other characters in this chapter are from the creative realm within me.

It is a typical Philadelphia winter morning on the DeWitt Bukater estate; the silver clouds cover the crisp air that nips and bites like a frozen dog that is ignited by a chilled wind, tainting the windows with the phantom cold from outside. In the house the solemn hand of death’s blanket visits as the beds are warm and being slept in. Until the bell rings for tea in the parlour. The fires that were glowing with flames are now mystical embers creating caverns of red.

This is the routine that Elizabeth woke up to.

This morning however is different, ‘For he is not here. I miss his unfamiliar yet comforting embrace. The smell of the house is different and a little unsettling. No that is just my queasy stomach. Most likely due to nerves,’ she thinks, as she sits on her bed lost in her thoughts.

‘How is it possible to miss someone I barely knew? Maybe it is the potential that I am missing. The potential for a comforting, safe love. Not a great love as in the stories of old that my maids would tell me. No, those are rare and even more so in this world that I am a part of. The love that I was taught explained to me that I am only my husband’s property, something to be sought after and claimed. Taken care of because I have the ability to create life.

‘He seemed so different than the other men. He cared about my happiness and listened to my ideas...at first.

‘Yet, it was glowing embers not a roaring fire. Glowing embers that were too quickly put out before they could become a glowing...yes that is it,’ she thinks. As she finishes this thought a soft knock can be heard from the other side of the door.

“Come in,” is her reply and slowly, as if approaching a wounded or scared animal, is her favorite person in her world. Her friend, confidant, and sister, Rose. Rose is their mother’s favourite. ‘She is more beautiful and can turn more heads. She should have had him in her embrace, even though she is younger than me by two years. Mother thought she was too young to be married at sixteen. One more year and Rose will be of the age to be married off as if a lamb in auction,’ Elizabeth thinks bitterly. 

“Sissy,” is her quiet greeting.

“Rosie,” is Elizabeth’s quiet reply.

“Mother told me to come and get you. We are to have breakfast and tea in the parlour. She would like for you to be in your black garb, as you know, and I am to help.”

“Thank you Rosie. I feel everything and nothing all at once. I feel so cold as if death’s hands are upon me. I miss him. Yet, I feel I hardly knew him and yet knew all of him. I ache for his touch yet recoil at the same time. I know I am to be called for something more. It’s beyond me, as if I am seeing a far off horizon. The closer I get the farther it goes. Can you help me Rosie? Help me!”

Rose does not know what to do or say for a moment. She can only see her older sister, see her pain and her strength. In this moment she does not know that someone could be experiencing so many feelings at once. She knows that no matter how much she wants to take her sister’s pain from her, if only to lessen her burden, ‘I cannot’ she thinks with an internal sigh. ‘I want to see that Elizabeth is alive and not a grieving shell of a woman.’ So she does the first thing that she can think of. She embraces her sister, hoping that amongst her sister’s many feelings she can feel and know Rose’s love for her, embracing her.

Then just as Rose’s embrace began, her sister is breaking it to rush to the toilet to be sick. She follows gently murmuring, “Oh Sissy you are so strong. I am here.” She starts humming her sister’s favourite song, The Beautiful Blue Danube, to get them both through this uncomfortable moment.

When Elizabeth has recovered Rose goes to get some water from the pitcher on the washstand.

“Come lets get dressed. Mother has been waiting long enough we don’t want her to have a nose bleed.”

“I can’t believe I have to wear black for a whole year. It’s vile. As if I am dead too. Maybe that’s the point isn’t? I am happy for him. He knew I loved him, and he is no longer suffering. That should be celebrated not mourned.”

“Perhaps...perhaps you should keep these radical thoughts to yourself. Let his family grieve and let them see that you miss him very much. So much so that an admirer of fashion like yourself would wear black for a whole year.”

“You’re right Rosie. Thank you for being here with me. Don’t leave me alone to-day.”

Rose silently nods, not comfortable making a promise that she was not sure she could keep. “Come, you look...you look hauntingly beautiful I think.”

Elizabeth kisses her on the cheek and arm in arm with a sisterly bond of the ages they go to meet their mother for tea. 


	2. A Mourning Maiden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The characters Rose DeWitt Bukater, Ruth DeWitt Bukater, and Trudy Bolt are owned by James Cameron and Paramount Pictures. They are wonderful companions and inspirations.  
> The song Nearer My God To Thee belongs to its historic writer and composers.  
> Any other characters are of my own making and creation.

“There you are. I was going to send Trudy to bring you down. Darling, come eat, we don’t want people to think you are sick yourself. Rose you look beautiful. You are going to turn some men’s heads, maybe meet a husband,” Ruth greets.

“Mother, I doubt that a funeral occasion is an appropriate place to meet a husband. Additionally, we must support Elizabeth, whatever she needs. This is not an hour for matchmaking.” 

There is not a lot of conflict between Elizabeth and Rose, only the occasional banter. The conflict is with their mother, a lady of aristocratic standing. She had married a wealthy man who lived recklessly only to meet a pitiful death in her eyes - a fever and a crashed horse carriage. She was left with their two daughters, one who looked every bit of him with his dark hair, blue eyes, and pale skin and then her beautiful Rose with cascading curls of red hair. She would surely be the one who would bring wealth and prosperity to a broken family. 

People do meet at funerals. Rose was wrong. Maybe to-day would bring a fateful meeting that would impact both their lives. This event journeying and attending a funeral will be the start of many new beginnings of these two maiden’s voyages. 

When they arrive at the funeral home they are greeted by a haunting sight of women in long, black dresses, holding black parasols. To Elizabeth it is rolling swells in a dark sea of parasols. “Rose. I am going to be sick again.” 

“Breathe B, you are safe. I am here. Be strong for him.” 

“For him,” Elizabeth murmurs. With a hand on her stomach to center her breathing she gracefully steps out of the carriage. She hears some mutterings, “Such a tragedy,” and, “Too young to be a widow.” Elizabeth’s ears are filled with whispers. Her inky anchor is her own parasol. The pattern on the handle is a comfort. She discreetly wanders her gloved fingers over the carved inlay. 

It is a beginning of an end and an end of a beginning. A new cycle is starting. A call to authenticity and courage is being born. To love and be loved is ringing all around her. As her vision starts to darken, ‘Not now please, not now, come back later,’ she thinks. As quickly as the vision started it ends. 

Elizabeth is staring at what seems to be a ceiling of grey; it is the sky above. Rose is kneeling beside her.   
  


More whispers start, “Poor dear.”

“What an embarrassment. Such a weakling.”

“They were married less than a year.” 

Elizabeth arises with Rose’s help, sways for a moment, and makes her way to the pew. 

Rose sits beside her with their mother. The ceremony starts. The pastor makes his way to the stand. 

Elizabeth does not much care for pastors or churches. She believes in nature. The forest is her sanctuary. There, all the creatures, guides, friends, and fellow companions share truth, beauty, freedom, and love. 

Elizabeth remembers that she must be respectful and pay attention. She does when she hears his name, ‘Oh his name.’   
  


“...Samuel William Berkeley epitomized the word gentlemen. Many of us are here today because the Lord brought his presence to us. Through his smile and his laugh. Being with Samuel was being in God’s presence. He is and will be missed. We must not mourn the life he lived. But the life he did not, he did not get to meet his first child. He did not get to see more of our great country. He did not get to spend more time with his wife Elizabeth. He did not get to bury his parents. He did not get to grow old. He did not get to do what he dreamed. He died with no pain and suffering. He died knowing that he was loved. We must not lose our love of Samuel. For when we feel his love he is here. Love is eternal. The choir will now sing  Nearer My God To Thee.”

As the choir sings Elizabeth is thinking about her time with Samuel. His hazel eyes, the first time she touched his hand and he hers, the feeling of his lips against hers, when he was inside of her, when they would read books in front of the fire. More than herself, she mourns for the life growing inside of her, ‘Who will never meet its’ father.‘

She feels a light touch on her shoulder and flinches. It is Rose, “The service is over. We are to go to the Berkeley’s now.” 

With a shudder Elizabeth stands up to go to her in-laws house. She never did like her in-laws much. ‘They have too many animal heads.‘ It is here though, that her new beginning will start. A great love will come from this death. 


	3. A Mysterious Following

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own or have creative rights to the character Cal Hockley, Rose DeWitt Bukater, or Ruth DeWitt Bukater. They belong to James Cameron and Paramount Pictures. They are a wonderful inspiration.  
> Any other characters are from of my own making from within me.

Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, eyes watched and followed her throughout the ceremony and after, even as she entered the Berkeley’s house. 

These eyes are wary, curious, and enchanted all at once. Wary because no matter how he tries not to look his eyes stray. If there is anything Cal Hockley does not like, it is not being in control. 

He is curious because he has never seen someone look so weak and yet so strong. Someone whose emotions are so open. He was raised and taught to be serious and composed. All emotions would be tightly wound and would only be released in private. 

He is enchanted because he cannot remember when he has  seen a more beautiful creature. ‘As if an earth nymph is in my presence, a goddess. I need to meet her. But how?‘

His father and grandfather always told him to make his own luck, ‘So on this day I will’. 

As Elizabeth enters the Berkeley house with Rose and mother it feels as though she is being suffocated. It is stuffy, crowded, and hot. She just wants to be in the forest amongst the quiet. Hearing the falling rain from branches, being in a quiet muffled world where there is no talk, no whispers, ‘Just me, and rain.‘

“How do you do young Elizabeth,” a rich women’s voice breaks through her musings.

“Ethel my condolences about Samuel you raised a good son.” 

“It was nice to know that he was loved by someone other than his mother, even for a short time.” 

“Yes, I take comfort in that as well.” 

“Alice is in the third drawing room perhaps you would like to sit with her.” 

“Of course,” is her reply, as she walks away from her mother in law or ex, ‘I am not sure. I only know and was taught how to stay married but never what do when your man dies. Do I keep in touch with my in laws or go my own way? How I yearn to go my own way. To go on adventures. Alas, there is a life growing inside of me. I cannot think of myself anymore.‘

As these thoughts and musings are swirling in her head she stumbles and a hand stops her. “Thank you,” she replies. 

“I would not be a gentleman if I let a woman fall, now would I?” 

“No probably not. Imagine the scandal.” 

“Gentleman of handsome stature watches woman fall. How uncouth.” Cal can only watch and smirks. 

“Thank you, for catching me. I really am clumsy. Something that my mother was never able to take away, no matter how she wished to. How abysmal, me talking about my mother in such a way! Elizabeth you really are daft. Oh you must think me unhinged. I will depart, and leave you to be on your way. Thank you again...”

“Hockley...” he clears his throat. “Cal Hockley. She’s in the first room on the left by the way.” 

She looks at him with her head tilted to the side, blue eyes watching, seeing him. ‘It is unsettling yet enlightening at the same time. As if she is looking through me or around me. I have never seen a more beautiful creature...woman. She is a woman. A most enchanting woman.’

“Thank you Mr. Hockley. Perhaps we will meet in more graceful circumstances.” 

Just as quickly as she stumbled into his arms she leaves. The tingling sensation on his hand is the only evidence of their encounter. Her lasting mark. ‘I want more of her. To feel more tingles. Most women smell nice or their hair would brush my shoulder. None of them made me tingle, not like this.’ In this moment he makes a promise that he would try to be in the presence of Elizabeth Berkeley as much as society allowed, in a cordial manner. 


	4. A Lost Maiden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the character Cal Hockley and Rose DeWitt Bukater, they belong to James Cameron and Paramount Pictures.  
> Any other characters are of my own creation. 
> 
> Trigger warning: There is a brief panic attack at the end and an ethnic slur. I hope this does not offend anyone. This story is based in 1911 and there were many slurs then it was a romantic time and it was also a cruel time. That is no excuse for a writer though.  
> There is a Romani character in this story. If I write anything that does not seem accurate about Romani people or this time period. Please let me know. I want to be as inclusive as possible in a very exclusive time.

Elizabeth follows Cal’s, ‘No, Mr. Hockley’s,’ direction and finds Alice, who is sitting on a plush yellow sofa, a much too happy colour for the young girl of only thirteen. 

With a gentle knock on the yellow and blue floral wallpaper and a, “May I come in?” the young girl starts. “I am sorry to have startled you,” Elizabeth says, as she looks at Alice. 

Elizabeth is reminded of this morning with Rose and smiles inside for her lovely sister.

She has always liked Alice, now at the fragile age between being a child and a woman.   
  


“You can come in.” 

She knows words are only a material comfort. Silence is what Alice needs. 

After a while a small voice asks, “Does it always hurt?” 

“Does what hurt?”

“My heart, my body, I miss him so much. The way he would twirl me around in the garden. When we would sneak food from the kitchen. When he would lend me boys clothes to play in the forest. I miss him so much it hurts.” 

“I don’t think that it is called heart ache if it doesn’t hurt. I have a theory that our mind and body is connected and our body experiences pain as much as the mind, one and the same. Samuel still exists in you. I know that these words may sound empty. When you are ready, may they bring some comfort to you. Our love for him keeps him alive. What was one of your favourite memories with Samuel?” 

“When I came home from finishing school last year father was busy in his study. I really wanted to show him how I had learned to dance better and I wasn’t very patient. Samuel told me I could dance with him. We came to this parlour and danced together. I never laughed so much. It was fun. It’s one of my favourite memories.” 

“That’s a wonderful story. Thank you for telling it to me.” 

As Alice is telling her story, Elizabeth sees a brightness that was absent a few moments before. Her eyes sparkle. She smiled. If only for a brief moment a day of woe is forgotten. This child needs to cry and laugh. “I have an idea.” Elizabeth looks around the room and sees a top hat sitting on one of the couches and asks, “May I use this?” 

“Yes.”

“If you are comfortable could you turn around?” Alice obliges, with a knowing smile. She likes Elizabeth, more than her own sister, Helen. She is glad that Elizabeth is here with her instead. She feels a tap on her shoulder. 

Elizabeth takes off her black lace crepe and walks to the doorway. With a deep breath, she puts on the top hat. “This dance is for you,” she whispers. She walks up to Alice and taps her on the shoulder. With a voice as low as she could summon she asks, “Miss Berkeley may I please have this dance?” With effortless effort the two women dance to  The Beautiful Blue Danube that Elizabeth is humming. A laugh bubbles out of Alice’s throat. At first it is a giggle, then a chuckle, which evolves into a loud guffaw with snorting and cackling. 

This is when a familiar stranger comes to see what unfamiliar sounds are being made for this occasion. He peaks from the side of the doorway to see his Elizabeth, no ‘Not mine,’ he thinks, ‘Just Elizabeth‘, dancing with Alice. Elizabeth is wearing what appears to be a very familiar top hat. He smirks at the scene. As the chuckling and guffawing from Alice subsides, sobs are visiting and Elizabeth, who is still wearing the top hat, sways Alice in an embrace. She continues to hum. He has never seen such a maternal sight. 

“Shh it’s alright. Let it all out. I am here. I got you. I won’t let go until you tell me to,” Elizabeth murmurs so low, that he has to strain to hear her. 

Soon Alice’s sobs subside to mere sniffles. Elizabeth’s dress is damp but she does not care. That is the least of her worries. 

“Come, let’s sit down. I am rather dizzy. All that spinning.” She lets Alice go and moves toward the couch.

Putting out her hand to steady herself she is met once more with an unfamiliar yet familiar tingling. 

She lifts her gaze and is greeted by the warmest brown eyes she ever did see, brandy coloured. “Thank you Mr. Hockley.” 

“Please, after a second time of meeting in such a way call me Cal.” 

“Thank you Cal.” 

“Did my mother send you?” Alice asks, with tears drying on her cheeks. 

For a moment Elizabeth forgot that Alice was there. “No,” he replies, in his deep voice that matches the depth of his eyes. “I heard laughing and thought something was amiss for an occasion such as this.” He thinks it ridiculous that he has just rhymed in front of his woman. ‘Oh, I will make her mine alright. No woman looks at me  the way she does. As if seeing me, not my money, or clothes, me.’

“We were just laughing through our tears,” Elizabeth says, while still wearing the top hat.

“I seem to have left my hat here or I thought it was here.” Alice lets out another giggle. 

Elizabeth turns around to smile at her as she replays Mr. Hockley’s, no Cal’s words, in her head, “ Hat,” and “ Here.” 

With a blush on her cheeks she reaches up and takes his hat off her head. “I believe this belongs to you kind sir. I found it rather comfortable,” she says, as she hands his hat back to him. ‘Oh her playfulness is contagious‘. Before he can reply another dizzy spell is cast upon her. He helps her to sit down. 

“I will be back with some tea.” 

“Thank you,” Alice responds for them both. 

“Are you alright B?” she asks, her big grey eyes are wide with concern. 

‘She will be a real beauty one day,’ Elizabeth silently reflects. Before she answers.

“Yes, I am grieving that’s all.” To change the subject she asks, “Alice have you known Mr. Hockley long?” 

“I have never met Mr. Hockley, but Cal was one of Samuel’s closest friends. Didn’t you ever meet him?” 

“No, not once.” 

“Maybe my great brother was afraid that you would fall in love with him, leave him and go join a caravan of gypsies.”

“Samuel loved stories. He knew I loved them.” Elizabeth’s voice goes distant. ‘He never let me love him,’ she thinks. “Besides,” she continues, “I don’t think that Cal would be the kind of man to join a caravan.”  


Alice giggles once more, “You don’t know your own beauty.” 

Before Elizabeth can reply Cal comes back with two cups of tea. “Only two but there are three of us?” Elizabeth muses. “l don’t want any,” Alice tells her, “Excuse me but I think I hear my mother calling.” With a kiss on the cheek and a hand squeeze she whispers, “Thank you for the dance.” She departs from the drawing room, her flaxen hair with a black bow disappearing around the corner.

Silence descends upon the pair in the drawing room not knowing who is to speak first. 

What is expected to be an awkward silence is actually a comfortable one. “Thank you for the tea,” Elizabeth says, softly. “I am surprised you did not ask a servant to get it.”  


  
Cal silently squirms under the comment, “You don’t think me capable of getting tea?”

“No of course not, it just seems like a man of your standing would ask for tea instead of making it himself.” He does not know whether to admire the comment or be offended. ‘This woman perplexes me.’  


“If you must know, I was going to ask a servant but they were all very busy. I thought that you would appreciate the privacy...?” He hesitates and finally says, “I will go now and give you privacy.” He rises to get up with his tea cup.  


“No please,” Elizabeth says, a little too harshly, spilling some tea on her black wool dress and black lace gloves. “Please don’t go. I appreciate your company even if we only just met. My thoughts will drown me if I am left alone.” 

“If you wish, then I will stay.” 

“I do wish, and thank you once or twice more.” 

He can only smile at her as he thinks, ‘She is so much more than her beauty.‘  


“I am sorry.”He looks up questioning in his eyes, “For your loss. Samuel was your closest friend.”  


Cal shakes his head as if ridding himself of something, “I should be offering you condolences. You were his wife.”  


“Not for very long.” 

“When you love someone does it really have a time? Love can spark a marriage or it could be a burning flame from a meeting of only a few minutes. To doubt your time together is dissolving his memory. He loved you. He was afraid of what you were doing to him, making him feel. But he loved you.” 

“You’re right. What you speak of love is true.” 

‘I did not know that I thought of love in this way. She lights a flame in me,’ he quietly ponders.  
  


  
“Thank you for the tea. It’s very good. It’s really helping,” Elizabeth politely compliments.  


‘Ah, an excellent subject changer. I will have to remember that,’ he muses.  


“You’re welcome. It’s lemon ginger. It’s supposed to help with nausea and dizziness,” he gently informs her.

“How did you know I was nauseous?” Elizabeth asks, with a quiet surprise. 

“I didn’t. When I get dizzy I get nauseous. Especially when I don’t get enough sleep,” Cal confides. 

“I do and did care about him...Samuel...you know. He made me feel things I never felt. Later on I saw...and I was growing to love him more and more as our time went on. Maybe that’s not a great love. As a woman in our society it’s what I could do to keep my family name safe. He was kind as he could be to me. Some men are not,” Elizabeth explains to him in a rushed tone as if the thoughts are flooding into her head, faster than her mouth will say them.

Cal does not know what to say to her vulnerability and the plights of being a woman. ‘Who would want to lay a hand a such a beauty? I only want to be kind to her, to touch her with kindness, not strike her with anger.‘

He remembers something that Samuel told him, “He told me that you found a frog and brought it to church when you were engaged.”

Elizabeth smiles at the change of subject and memory, “Yes, I was told I was an ingrate because how dare I bring one of the devil’s creatures into God’s house. Mother sees me as an absolute disgrace, worse than before. Anyway it’s inappropriate to talk of such things.”

He wants to say, “No, tell me more, I am here, I will not let you go.” Before he can, an unfamiliar voice breaks his thoughts.

“B, there you are, I was looking everywhere. Alice told me that she last saw you here.” 

“Rose.” 

‘B? I like that. It is as if I am getting a privileged viewing into the world of women.‘

He can see that the woman that Elizabeth is talking to has red hair. ‘She is beautiful as well, more in a porcelain doll way,’ he silently observes. 

  
“Oh excuse my manners,” Elizabeth’s soft lilting voice once again brings him back to the drawing room. “Mr. Hockley may I present my sister Rose. He has been keeping me company after I suffered a dizzy spell.” 

“A dizzy spell sissy? Being sick this morning and now this? When we get home we are calling for a doctor,” Rose states.

“A doctor! That’s hardly needed. People get dizzy all the time. Cal gets nauseous when he doesn’t have enough sleep.” As soon as the words left Elizabeth’s  mouth she knew she spoke wrongly. She looks over Rose’s shoulder to meet his eyes. ‘The most warm eyes my eyes ever did see.‘ She tries to silently apologize. ‘I am flawed and unloveable. Samuel would strike me when I  would do something like this.‘

As soon as that thought entered her head the room starts getting smaller and smaller. ‘So is my breathing come to think of it.‘ There was a distant voice the sound of Rose calling. ‘I need to get back.’ Her vision is getting darker. ‘Cal must think me to be so weak. He will never want to look at me again or worse, speak to me.‘

Cal can only helplessly look on, as Rose tries to get Elizabeth to slow her breathing. Of course what he said was close to his heart. ‘I  should have had more decorum. We both should have.’ A part of him is angry for being open to such a child. Another part of him sees a tortured soul. He is thinking about her wearing his hat dancing with Alice. ‘A kind playful soul.’

He decides that the next time they meet, ‘She will have to approach me.’ Until then he will be angry. As he leaves the room he wants to leave chin up, head held high, back straight, as he was taught from a very young age, and not look back. 

His eyes just will not behave. They stray for a final look until the next meeting with this elusive, playful, enigmatic beauty. 


	5. A New Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the character Rose DeWitt Bukater, Ruth DeWitt Bukater, or Trudy Bolt who belong to James Cameron and Paramount Pictures. They are a wonderful inspiration.  
> Any other characters are of my own making.

It is a week after the funeral and the situation in the drawing room. The nausea and the dizziness are not abating. Even Ruth, their mother is noticing. 

The doctor is summoned. 

Elizabeth knows the cause. She wants to keep it a secret; just a little while longer. She tells Rose her suspicions. She cannot keep it in. Not when Rose is talking about contacting the doctor all the time. 

They are going to a dinner at the Embrey’s house to-night. The outside is calling. An end to the silence. She knows there is an extraordinary potential with Cal. ‘I will have to apologize. Hopefully it will not be a public apology.’

As much as she admired Samuel she is getting tired of wearing black. She likes the colour itself. She does not like having the obligation to do something, like wearing black. ‘For him though, I will wear this colour with dignity.‘

As she is wearing the black garb she thinks about the significance of this colour. ‘Even right now my little one is growing inside of me, in a place of darkness. Maybe as I too wear black, I am creating a new reality for my little one and I.’   
  


A knock from her closed door interrupts her thoughts. She knows it is Rose. Her last thought before her sister enters is, ‘At least my nightdress is white.’ She is lying in bed ready to receive the doctor. This will make his visit pass quickly.

“Would you like me to accompany you while the doctor visits?” 

“You don’t have to ask sissy.I already told you what I think it is.”

“I know you did, but how do you know?” Elizabeth raises her chin and purses her lips to not laugh. She looks down her nose, with a hand on her stomach and in the most posh accent says, “A woman only knows.” the two women break out in a fit of giggles. They do not even notice that they are in the presence of their mother and the doctor. 

As the doctor looks at Elizabeth with knowing doctor eyes he sees that she knows too. 

“Now I assume that you would like your sister here?”

“Yes sir,” Elizabeth replies.  
  


Ruth sits in the corner watching like a creature from the shadows.   
  


Rose holds onto her sister’s hand as she thinks, ‘I know my sister is different, thinks differently, and does things different in a society that suffocates difference. Somehow sissy manages to stay authentic. My sister inspires me to rise above the trappings of society. Mother despises B though. I fear what mother will do when she finds out the news. Nothing,’ Rose hopes. ‘I know that whenever mother looks at B she sees father. A disgrace, no an embarrassment. Hopefully this baby will change that.‘

Rose knows that Elizabeth will make a great mother. She liked Samuel but she knows that Elizabeth needs more. ‘At least mother is quiet about marriage, for now.‘

Rose was supposed to be engaged to Samuel. ‘Elizabeth somehow convinced mother otherwise, saying that I am too young for marriage. I am definitely not ready to carry a child.‘

Rose returns from her musings by a squeeze from her sister’s hand.

“When was your last cycle?” The doctor asks, speaking through his dark, thick, greying beard. 

“Before Samuel passed, maybe a month ago.” 

“Right. Any dizziness, nausea, lethargy, spotting, emotional turbulence, swollen breasts, frequent urination, flatulence, bloating, or constipation?”

“Yes, and the nausea is getting more frequent.” 

“I see.”

“Do you think I will experience all of these symptoms if I am not experiencing some of them now?” 

“As you get closer to birthing some increase, such as fatigue; but others, in my experience with other patients, decrease, such as nausea. Your mother mentioned you are already clumsy so as your child develops you have to watch your balance. I would be careful in Europe. There is some writing about lead pipes so I would treat the pipes with lime. It will help absorb the lead. I also noticed you have a stable outside. Do you ride horses Miss DeWitt Bukater?” 

“Yes.” 

“I would refrain from that activity. It’s very risky and in some cases causes miscarriage.” 

“Thank you for your time and suggestions doctor.” 

“You’re welcome and congratulations.” 

“What do you think mother, a grandchild?” Ruth internally rolls her eyes. She looks at Elizabeth and smiles a tender smile. 

It was the first time, as far as Elizabeth can remember, that her mother shared a rare smile with her. Ruth laughs and embraces Elizabeth. She did not know that she was craving her mother’s touch. And in this moment she vows to never deny her child an embrace. ‘No matter how old they are.’

Her mother tells her, “Come you have slept in. It will soon be time for lunch. You need to keep up your strength.” Ruth departs the room feeling that she has seen her eldest daughter for the first time since her husband died. A woman who lost a man she cared for and is now carrying his child. Her daughter, even though she looks like him more, is not at fault for that. ‘I was wrong to deny her love. I will make more mistakes with Elizabeth and I  know that. My daughter is now carrying a new life and needs to be cared for not forgotten.‘

“Rose did you see what mother did?” 

“Yes, it’s amazing what good news can do. Maybe she finally realizes that you are not all father.” Elizabeth silently nods focusing on the open door that her mother just walked through.

As they descend the stairs to the dining room Elizabeth plans with Rose, “I don’t want all of Philadelphia Society to know. I am not going to be able to hide my delicate condition. Eventually people will find out anyway. Additionally, I think I should tell Samuel’s family before. Perhaps I should take a walk with Silas to their house. Do you think I can ask mother what she thinks?” 

“I can think of no better idea sissy.” Elizabeth smiles one of the brightest smiles that Rose has ever seen. 

They both sit in their respective spots to eat lunch. A grapefruit starter to cleanse the palate, a warm vegetable salad, curried chicken, and a vanilla custard is served. The DeWitt Bukater household never has to fear starvation.

There is silence during the first course. Elizabeth’s stomach is unsettled. She needs to ask mother. “Excuse me mother?” 

Ruth wipes her mouth with the serviette and looks up at her eldest, “Yes.” 

“I was contemplating, after receiving the news from the doctor this morning, that before a public announcement is made or the baby announces itself, I should go over to the Berkeley’s and tell them the good news. What do you think mother?” 

“I think that’s a splendid idea. After all it is their grandchild too.” Hearing this Elizabeth squirms internally and in a tone just above a whisper she asks, “You don’t think they will try to take my baby away from me do you?” 

“Not if you can show them that you are a good mother.” Elizabeth can only nod in acceptance and say, “Of course.” Internally she promises herself to be the best mother that she can be. 

Rose sees and knows how much her sister loves children. ‘I have no doubt B will be a good mother. If the Berkeley’s wanted to take her child away, I would get mother to hire the finest lawyers in Philadelphia. Even beyond if I have to.’ Just as Rose finishes this thought, salad is brought to the table. Ruth starts the next conversation, one that if Elizabeth had not just finished chewing would have had her choking. “Did any of you meet a fine young gentleman at the funeral?“ 

“Mother I am sure that the funeral was not an occasion that would be appropriate to meet any man,” is Rose’s reply. 

“Samuel was a fine man, so I am sure that there were a few of his friends. I didn’t meet any though.” 

“Humph.” It was silence until the next course. 

“I did see one. Alice was just walking past. I stopped and asked her who he was. She said that his name is Caledon Hockley. Did any of you meet him?” This is it. Elizabeth can hardly keep the blush from her cheeks. She wants to have a bout of sickness and be relieved from the table. Rose is more composed, “Why do you ask mother?” 

“I just saw him and thought that if he is a bachelor he would make a fine match for one of you girls. Rose you will be sixteen on the fifth of April. Marriage is in your future.”

Elizabeth has a difficult time to see Rose married. ‘Rose is all fire and quite spoiled. If she meets the right man maybe. She cannot be with just anybody. Rose is destined for a great love, that much I know.’

“Perhaps when your mourning period is over Elizabeth. If you deem yourself ready, and if he would accept a child from a different father. It’s not just your future you have to think about. You need to put aside your happiness and think of your unborn child’s future. University may be in Rose’s future but it is not in yours of that I am certain.”

“Yes mother,” is Elizabeth’s only reply. She will never talk about her encounter with Cal Hockley. Not even to Rose who was there. ‘The only word to describe that afternoon humiliation.‘

The rest of the meal is silent with unseen glances between Elizabeth and Rose. Rose knows her future will be different from her sister’s. A part of her is grateful for that. All the ideas that she can explore and learn about in university seem fascinating. Her thoughts travel to her sister, ‘Who is a bird of many feathers in a cage.’ Tears come to her eyes and she has to blink rapidly to keep them at bay. 

“Trudy, would you bring a paper and pen please.” Elizabeth writes a letter to the Berkeley family:

Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Berkeley,

Some news has come to me regarding Samuel that I would like to share with you. I still find it unfathomable that he is no longer with us. Being at your estate made me feel closer to him. I know we are no longer together and in truth our families are now separated. We would still like to keep in touch if you permit. Please send a courier with a time and date that we can come over for a visit.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth DeWitt Bukater Berkeley  
  


“Trudy will you please find someone to bring this to the Berkeley house?”  
  


“Of course madame.” Something comes over Elizabeth. A knowingness without knowing that she needs to arrange for the delivery personally. “Actually mother I can go. I need to walk Silas anyway. I can give it to the groundskeeper. The Berkeley’s don’t even need to know that I was there. I can be cloaked. Please mother.”  
  


“Alright, fresh air will do you some good. Be careful not to be seen, and be back before sunset. We need to leave at seven thirty to be at the Embry’s at eight.” 

“Silas come,” Elizabeth calls to her loyal rough collie. Her father gave him to her when she was thirteen. 

Ruth loathes having a dog in the house. ‘He does keep Elizabeth from having her usual fits though and brings a welcome calm over her.’  


Elizabeth dresses as warm as she can. Wearing all black of course. Black winter gloves, sheepskin lined boots, a winter dress, a winter wool cloak with a fur trimmed hood. ‘Bless the animal who gave their fur for me to wear, may they not have suffered more than they needed to.’

“Come my friend for we are to go on a journey. A mission of top confidence,” Elizabeth says to Silas giddily. 

A giggle rolls its way from inside. She is tingling with excitement. She yearns for the outdoors, as she laughs. 

A maiden and her dog are on their way. 

A journey calls from within to be out. 


	6. A Journey Within

The rain is heavier than anticipated. Elizabeth knows that it would not fall as heavy once they are under the canopy of trees. There was a time when her mother, father and Rose would explore the neighbouring forest. When father died so did her mother’s laugh and smile. She had not heard her mother laugh in a longtime.

As Elizabeth walks she tries not to get too muddied up. Silas is running loyally beside her as they make their way to the Berkeley’s house.   
  


~  


Cal is walking under the wooded canopy, sipping the brandy that was offered to him by Arthur Berkeley. It is keeping him warm. He cannot stop thinking about last week and Elizabeth Berkeley. He has tried to ask more about her. The most forthcoming person who would know said something about her not finishing finishing school and how speaking about such a person is a silly affair. He found this to be quite curious because one thing he does know of women is their love of gossip. Though a part of him is still angry, that part is slowly waning.  


‘It was a matter of circumstance as she was clearly unwell and had just lost her husband. I should have more compassion. But I was not taught about compassion, I was taught that to be successful I had to buy my way in life. Make my own luck and all of that. If only father could see me now walking amongst the woods pining for a certain woman when any woman would surely kneel down in front of me if I asked her to. At least that was what I had been told. Elizabeth Berkeley is different. I am called to her as if she is a siren in a story that was  told to me long ago. Perhaps if she is well I will see her to-night. She makes the colour black shine,’ he muses with a sigh of both intrigue and frustration.

~

Elizabeth is enamoured by the patterns of nature as she watches raindrops on leaves, perfect spheres. The sound of the rain falling from the branches fills her ears with a comforting sound. The forest is quiet, the only accompaniment is the sound drip...drop....drip...drop of raindrops. By the thousands drops fall. She sniffles. She looks up, the sky is brightening, the sun is coming out. Her favourite part of rain falling in a forest will soon happen. As she walks off the main path she arrives at her sacred place just in time. It is a mossy grove. A circle of tall birch trees surround her. The sun appears from behind a thinning cloud, ‘it’s rays not yet showing.’ As if hearing her thoughts, light streams down. The light of the sun reflects off the mist of the clouds and raindrops, reflecting miniature rainbows. Rose calls it a prism effect. Elizabeth could not care less. She has her own name for this place, ‘The Forest of Rainbow Reflections’, a place of great enchantment.

As the sun rays pierce through the canopy and birds start to sing their chorus of joy, she reflects to herself that, ‘birds are divine messengers. They fly down to us, silently asking us if there is a divine message we would like to share. Once the message is given they share it with God as they fly into the sky singing.’ As she and Silas venture further into the forest her last thought brings a grateful smile, ‘for we are walking amongst flying singing deities, what a gift.‘

Silas barks suddenly and bolts. The speed of his legs take him fast and far. “Silas, Silas, Si...las,” she calls. She follows his paw prints as fast as she can. In the distance she hears Silas bark again.  


“Silas here now,” she calls in a firm voice as she slaps her leg and claps her muffled hands. 

Thinking she had not asked the doctor about running, she walks towards the barking. Once she has visual of Silas she also perceives a figure with him who is clearly male from the broad shoulders. She approaches with relief, “There you are, did you find a scent?”  


Silas bows his head. He knows he should not have run off like that. ‘This male just smells really good!’

~

Elizabeth looks up to see a very familiar pair of brown brandy eyes looking down at her in what she thinks is amusement. “He likes you,” is her first remark, as she blushes with embarrassment.

“What’s not to like?” Cal says with a cold tone as his fingers trace his smooth silver flask.

“I am sorry. I apologize for what happened last week. I was hoping to see you again to apologize. My behaviour was terribly uncouth and shameful. I don’t know what came over me. You shared something personal with me while keeping me good company and I thoughtlessly shared it. I knew right away that I had spoken unnecessarily. I did greatly enjoy our time together. I promise from this moment on what you tell me I will keep in strict confidence. Would you do me the honour of accepting my apology and may we be acquaintances once more?” Elizabeth rambles in a misted apology. 

Cal has never seen such a beautiful yet pitiful sight, her red healthy cheeks and nose wet with mucous.  


‘Do I look like that too?’ he wonders.

“I will accept your apology. Why don’t you take off your hood so we can talk properly?” he asks. 

Elizabeth shakes her head, “I can’t because Silas and I are on a mission of strict confidence. It wouldn’t do to play the part only half well,” she tells him in a playful tone, he can hear the smile in her voice. 

“Where did you find such a handsome dog?”

“My father gave him to me when I was thirteen. He was a fine man.”  


Elizabeth has an idea, “Are you staying at the Berkeley’s?” she asks. 

“For the time being to help sort out Samuel’s affairs. They wanted someone close to him.”

“Do you think that you could deliver this note for me?”

“Of course,” Cal says with a polite inclination of his head covered by a dark country flat cap. 

“And thank you Cal for accepting my apology,” Elizabeth breathes with relief and gratitude.   


He nods his head with grace and clears his throat, “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you for asking. I didn’tintend for you to see one of my fits.”

“One thing is certain, you don’t disappoint for first impressions,” he says with a smile causing Elizabeth to blush more than she already is.  


Cal thinks, ‘she looks even more beautiful. I want to be the one to make her do that more and more. Where did that thought come from?’  


He hears her questioning voice and a tentative touch on his wrist, a knowing smile on her face, “I am sorry, did you say something?” 

“I was saying that I have to go now. Our missions are complete. Will I be seeing you at the Embry’s to-night?” 

“I thought your only mission was to deliver this note?” 

“It was. There was another one unbeknownst to even me.” He looks at her with a questioning gaze. He thinks he knows the answer but he wants to hear her say it.

“To apologize to you. If I saw you I wanted to apologize for last week.” She looks up at him with the eyes he has been dreaming about. “I really must go and get ready. I will see you to-night.”

“See you to-night,” Cal murmurs in a husky rumble.   


As Elizabeth turns, her black cloak twirling around her, and with Silas by her side, he touches her gloved hand and pulls it towards his lips. He kisses the back of her black wool glove, the fabric soft under his fingers. Her smell is intoxicating.

~

Oh what a rush a simple touch can do. The sensation of the tingle was like a spark going up her body, she puts her hand on her stomach to calm the child within. In this moment of simplicity and grace something is awakened deep within.

~

He lets go but he feels the phantom effects of having her hand within his, ‘a small and delicate hand,’ he observes, ‘yet strong. A woman of such depth I want more of her.’ 

They both go their separate ways, ready for their next encounter. 


	7. A Dinner of Unexpected Outcomes

As Elizabeth arrives back at her house she still feels the effects of Cal’s lips. ‘How could a simple touch start a burning in my loins? How am I supposed to face him tonight? Maybe I can tell mother that I am fatigued, which is true. Oh how I want to see him.’ A part of her longs for his gaze. 

“There you are darling how was your walk, was the note received?” 

“Yes mother I gave it to one of the grounds keepers and saw him bringing it to the house. It was an enlightening time,” shesays, as she tries to keep Silas still. “May I go and get ready for this evening at the Embry’s?” 

“Of course.” 

“Come Silas, let’s get you something to eat.” Elizabeth asks the cook, Margaret, to feed him a generous serving of lamb. 

After he is finished eating, a dog and his human make their way to their shared room. Silas settles down in his usual spot on Elizabeth’s bed. When she sees that he is comfortable, she goes to visit Rose, wanting her help to get dressed for this evening. She knocks on her sister’s door. “Come in,” Rose replies. 

“Do you think you could help me get dressed? I am feeling tired.” 

“Yes of course. I’ll ask Trudy to put some water on for a bath.” Elizabeth nods silently as she departs for her bath. She really is tired and just wants to sleep. Trudy comes to help her undress and prepares the water with dried sage and salt. She helps Elizabeth into the water. Elizabeth sighs contently, “Thank you Trudy. This is exactly what I need.”

“Enjoy your bath Miss Elizabeth.” Mother insists the servants not use their names. Elizabeth feels that is inhumane. So in private she asks Trudy to call her Miss Elizabeth. As she is soaking and drifting off, she replays her encounter in the forest, and her time in the Forest of Rainbow Reflections. She is smiling dreamily when she hears, “Good, I was afraid I would have to wake you and get myself all wet.” 

“I am not sleeping just resting. Is it time for me to abandon this soothing and comforting bath already Rose?” 

“Yes, unless you don’t want to go to the Embry’s. It’s seven. We don’t want to rush.” 

“I know. I am getting out.” Rose helps to dry and brush her thick wavy chestnut brown hair.

It is time to put her black crepe on with a veil. She is wearing a black gown with long lace sleeves, the bodice is beaded with a V neck design. The skirt has a floral pattern. She thinks, ‘it is appropriate enough.’ She sees the tiredness on her face and in her eyes. 

All three of the women make their way to the dinner just on time. Elizabeth is falling asleep on the carriage ride there. Every time her head would nod she thinks, ‘Is it getting more bumpy?’ 

Once they arrive at the Embry’s they are greeted by a bright house and a footman who leads them inside. The Embry’s have just returned from one of their many adventures overseas. The house is full of paintings, stuffy paintings depicting men’s ability to conquer. There are at least five ship paintings, and more war scene paintings. The rest must be portraits of family members Elizabeth assumes. There is brandy in crystal bottles that are deliberately placed on pedestals around the drawing room. Even though she has just arrived she already feels like she needs to sit down. She is not even thinking of seeing Cal anymore. She is not looking forward to the mindless conversations either. Rose was by her side until she got pulled away to talk about going back to finishing school. ‘I do not want to think of Rose going back to finishing school.’

There is an empty place to sit on a red chair by the fireplace so she goes and sits. Not even a few minutes later she is joined by Alice, who does not seem that happy to be at this dinner either. Elizabeth stays quiet until Alice speaks. It is important for Alice to know that someone is listening to her. “Mother is sending me back to finishing school tomorrow. I wish I was like you and I could get myself expelled.” 

“To not finish finishing school is a taint on a woman’s record.” 

Alice giggles, “You didn’t finish finishing school.” 

Elizabeth smiles with her and lets out a small chuckle, “It’s amusing now, not then. Besides it could be a good distraction with everything that has happened. Nothing more mind numbing than mundane tasks of walking with a straight back and being told how to place a serviette in your lap. Perhaps it will make you think less.” 

Alice hugs her and whispers, “Thank you.” 

Elizabeth can only summon a few light pats on Alice’s back. The dinner bell interrupts their light embrace and the crowd is ushered into the dining room for a sixteen course meal that is to be served. That is what she overheard Mrs. Embry telling one of the guests. Once the thirty guests are herded into the dining room she sees the placement cards and to her amazement, Cal is sitting right beside her. “You look very pulchritudinous tonight,” he discreetly tries to tell her. 

Of course Ruth will see one of the most handsome men at the table talking to one of her daughters. Rose is sitting beside her mother and watching the interaction. She has never seen Elizabeth so relaxed around someone, not even Samuel. ‘They would make a very handsome couple.’

The dinner begins withoysters and brown bread sandwiches. At the sight of the oysters Elizabeth’s stomach does a light heave. ‘Oh no, not now, please not now.’ 

A lady who is oblivious of her intending plight asks in a regally arrogant tone, “Is it appropriate to be socializing so soon after your loss? In my time a woman would never do such a thing.” 

Elizabeth starts, a response struggling to leave her lips. She feels a light tickle on her hand. That touch is familiar, she knows that touch. “I determined, I would be better off here than alone with my thoughts. There is nothing more dangerous than a woman thinking too much.” 

“Hear, hear,” she hears one man reply. She shudders internally at her own comment. A light comforting squeeze is enough to rid her of her traitorous thoughts. 

~

Cal had grown up with a view on women being controlled and owned. After just two conversations with this woman a veil was lifting from his conscience. ‘I need her light. I need  her to see me.’

After this minor questioning Elizabeth nibbles as much as she can on the courses that are served to her. “Is the food not to your satisfaction?” Mrs. Embry asks, discreetly scrutinizing her plate with contempt, her hooked nose raised.

“No it’s not that at all, I have...”

“Elizabeth suffers from a delicate stomach condition. We asked the doctor if she’s well enough to come tonight. He agreed she was. She just has to eat her fill,” Ruth replies for her. 

“The cucumber is really very delicious,” Elizabeth politely comments. Mrs. Embry returns to eating her food. 

In this quiet moment Elizabeth realizes that to-day she found out officially that she is with child. ‘Did that just happen today?’ Her stray hand rests on her stomach where her child is growing. 

The gesture does not go unnoticed by Cal who watches her every movement from the corner of his eye. ‘Her smell is tantalizing, floral yet something herbal. Perhaps the smell of earth and rain lingers from her afternoon mission.’ He smiles to himself as he thinks of the encounter. ‘The smell is a mystery just like the woman at my side.’

As more and more courses are consumed Elizabeth is starting to get more and more tired. After coffee someone announces dancing in the ballroom. She knows that dancing is the last thing she needs. She is too dizzy, too nauseous, and too tired. But when it is announced that the first song will be  The Beautiful Blue Danube her feet twitch to the phantom tune. 

A large open hand reaches beside her, “May I please have the honour of you sharing this dance with me?” She looks at Cal and knows that she cannot deny him. She accepts this dance, his hands are softly calloused, the room fades, and somehow during their waltz he manages to lead them to the terrace outside, “I thought you might like the fresh air.”

“Thank you, please may we sit?” He sits beside her, on the engraved stone bench. Elizabeth sighs a deep sigh. 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

“No, not unless you can summon a carriage and carry me to bed. I am content just sitting here and listening to the muffled voices from within the house.” The pair once more descend into silence. After what seems like a few moments, Cal feels a soft weight land on his shoulder. He lets this woman who has opened up his world in a way he does not even know rest on him. All he knows is he likes who he is around her. As if being around her makes him experience the world anew. 

Cal was jolted from his reverie by a voice asking, “Ms and Miss DeWitt Bukater are looking for Elizabeth.” Then seeing the pair’s position, “Oh the poor dear, so tired that she lacks decorum. Here let me wake her.” 

“No it is alright. I will bring her to her family. Do you perhaps know a more discreet route?”

“Oh yes, this way.” 

“Thank you, your help is greatly appreciated.” 

As he walks around the side of the house he does not want let go of this fair maiden in his arms. He is reminded of the stories he read and was told when he was younger about princes and princesses, knights and maidens; in a time before his father told him to grow up and learn the family business. He was no longer a fumbling useless child. This maiden brings his child self back, his enchanted youngness. He does not want to let her go. As he nears the entrance he sees her mother and sister. 

“There she is, thank you Mr...?”

“Hockley. She’s alright. She fell asleep. Perhaps if you don’t mind I can accompany you and carry her to her bed.” 

Ruth is spellbound, “As you wish, that’s very kind of you.” 

Rose watches and quietly studies him. This Mr. Hockley seems to be as trapped as she is. ‘He is handsome,’ she muses, ‘with his tall height, and slicked backed dark hair.’ His eyes are focused on her sister. One day she hopes that a man will look at her as Mr. Hockley looks at her sister, with an endearing gaze. 

In the carriage the atmosphere is mildly uncomfortable. It is quite tight and there is a very handsome man sitting amongst them. Every once in a while the carriage would hit a bump and Elizabeth would snuffle in her sleep like a pig. 

Rose has to put a hand over her mouth to pretend to yawn but really it is to stop a loud guffaw. 

Ruth is quietly thinking about the changes her daughter’s body is going through, and how her husband would support her. Ensuring she has somewhere to sit, he would try and be part of the process. She loved him very much. Yet her heart is cold because of his lifestyle choices and sudden death. It is difficult to raise two young women on the verge of marrying age. ‘A time of letting go and letting in,’ she muses. To Ruth it does not seem that Elizabeth would be alone long. They have to be careful about the grieving period. It seemed as if she has been thinking for the entire time of the carriage ride because just as she stops, so does the carriage. 

The driver opens the carriage door. Rose and Ruth depart first to the elaborately carved wooden front door of their house. 

Cal slightly struggles to lift Elizabeth out of the carriage, through the awkward angle of the door, and down the steps. She shifts somewhat in his arms but he maintains a comfortable hold as he carries her into the house. He does not pay attention to the interior of the house as Rose leads him to Elizabeth’s bedroom and opens the door. There is a lump on the bed that moves, “Good evening Silas,” he whispers. 

Rose hears his whisper. Her face is veiled by the dim light of the room. No one sees her eyebrows raise in astonishment. 

He lays Elizabethdown gently. 

After she turns on the light, Rose starts to undress her.

This is his time to depart. Ruth leads him to the entrance, “Thank you Mr. Hockley for your assistance. May we have the honour of you joining us for dinner tomorrow?” 

“I am happy to be of assistance and would be pleased to join you for dinner. You have two very exquisite daughters Ms. DeWitt Bukater.” 

Ruth watches the young gentleman’s back depart to the carriage. Their lives could be changed by just one act of kindness. 


	8. Surprising Expectations

With a groan Elizabeth wakes up. She has had the most incredible dream. She was the most comfortable she has ever been. Safe in arms that held and carried her. She misses them deeply and weeps as she wakes up.

The sun is just rising as Rose hears the sound of Elizabeth sobbing and goes to see what is wrong. She opens Elizabeth’s bedroom door to see her weeping into Silas’s fur. As the sun casts it’s early morning light Elizabeth’s room is bathed in a light darkness. “Oh sissy,” she murmurs, “It’s alright, I am here.”

“It doesn’t feel alright! I know Samuel just died yet I feel the most alive I have ever felt. Does that mean I am a bad person? I am carrying his child and he isn’t here.”

Rose thinks on her sister’s words, “Perhaps you feel the most alive because of the child. A part of Samuel will live. That’s something to be happy about.”

“You’re right Rosie, thank you.”

“Do you want to hear about what happened last night? It’s quite scandalous.”

Elizabeth sits on her knees to listen, one hand petting Silas and the other on her stomach. “I didn’t do that did I?”

“It’s alright, he is a real gentleman. Just don’t start courting too soon because of the mourning period and the child.”

“I know.”

“You snuffled in your sleep,” Rose taunts, in a light teasing tone. Elizabeth covers her eyes with her hands and groans. “It is still early, try and get more sleep. I will wake you when Trudy is bringing food for breakfast. Mother most likely wants you to rest for as long as possible. You overdid it yesterday.”

“I agree, I can’t think about me anymore. Can you stay with me Rose?” Rose tenderly nods and lies down beside Elizabeth as she rhythmically runs her fingers through her sister’s long locks that cascade to her waist, lulling them both into a light slumber.

~

As the sun’s rays stream into Ruth’s room, illuminating her bed as she sleeps, she wakes up to a knock on her door, “Come in.” Trudy appears timidly from beside the open door frame. Last night she had made a mistake. She had made Madame’s tea as requested however she had forgotten to give her a note that had arrived. It must have blown off the table by a stray breeze because she had found it underneath the table, flushed against the wall. It was a blessing really that she had dropped the fork when she did, otherwise she would not have seen the note from Mrs. Berkeley. The note is now gracefully displayed on the silver breakfast tray.

“Trudy, what is this note?” Ruth asks in a quiet curious tone.

“It came yesterday Madame.”

“Why am I only receiving it now?!”

“It was misplaced...”

Ruth ignores Trudy’s meagre explanation and rips through the envelope as if it holds the answers to all of the world’s unanswered questions. Her eyes quickly scan the message. In a bland distant tone she dismisses Trudy, “Tell Margaret that we will not be needing lunch to-day. We have to be at the Berkeley’s at 12:30. Let Elizabeth sleep until no later than eleven, before helping her get ready. She has been overdoing it. Oh and Trudy, in the future, when a note arrives, I expect to receive it immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Madame.”

“Good, you may go.”

As Elizabeth stirs for a second time this morning, her eyes crusty with dried tears, there is no sign of Rose anywhere, and Silas is gone too. Before she can even utter a sound, Trudy comes in with a tray of tea, oatmeal, and toast with raspberry jam. Though she does not even realize that she is hungry, Elizabeth’s stomach rumbles, and she devours her breakfast before falling back asleep with a full stomach and a warm bed. She wakes up once more with a kiss on her cheek from her mother. “You have found yourself a kind gentleman but we must be patient.”

“I understand mother,” she sleepily replies.

“It’s time to get up, we are to go and see the Berkeleys at 12:30. Trudy will help you get dressed.”

“I am up.”

Trudy helps her to slip on a black silk blouse, a black wool skirt and jacket with brown pin stripes; adding an intricate onyx brooch in a gold lace embellished setting at her neck. She chooses to forgo wearing a waist corset for obvious reasons. She can breath better now. She completes her ensemble with a small black beaded purse, a hat with rich brown yew ostrich feathers, and black wool gloves.

They ride once more in a carriage as they make their way to the Berkeley estate.

~

Inside the Berkeley house there is an air of curiosity. Cal has had a busy morning accompanying Alice to finishing school as her parents were too busy. He thought that it was something that Samuel would have done. As Alice leaves the automobile and the driver is unpacking her trunks, she asks Cal to bend down. She discreetly kisses his cheek and whispers, “Thank you, and take care of her.” He blinks in surprise, ‘How does she know? Children are getting smarter,’ he muses, ‘Or maybe it is just Alice.’ He makes his way back to the Berkeley estate. He does not know whether he should be there when the DeWitt Bukaters arrive. As if she saw his trepidation Mrs. Berkeley insisted, because he is helping with Samuel’s affairs. When he arrives he can see her just getting out of the carriage, a big feather hat atop her enchanting head of hair. He wonders how she is faring to-day. She was already inside by the time he reaches the large plain wooden doors.

Elizabeth enters the house and they are cordially greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Berkeley, and Samuel’s older sister Helen, who is masking her disgust. Her scrunched pointy nose is her tell. Elizabeth and Helen have never got on. Elizabeth despises the way Alice is treated by her. Mr. Berkeley’s kind voice breaks their silent altercation, “Mr. Hockley, may I present Elizabeth Berkeley. Mr. Hockley reviews Samuel’s affairs. He makes sure that they are in good order, Elizabeth.”

“Yes, we are acquainted. We met the day of the funeral,” Elizabeth states, willing herself not to blush as her eyes greet his brown depths, shining in the early afternoon light.

“I was thinking that because this concerned Samuel that we could meet in the study. We would both prefer if just Elizabeth was there,” Mrs. Berkeley explains to Ruth and Rose in a proper tone.

“Of course,” Ruth’s replies. Rose discreetly squeezes Elizabeth’s hand.

“Helen will lead you to the sitting room where you can wait,” Mrs. Berkeley continues to explain.

Mr. and Mrs. Berkeley situate themselves behind Mr. Berkeley’s large dark oak desk. Elizabeth is staring at a carving on the front of the desk. It looks like it is depicting a fox hunt. She wants to scoff. ‘Men and their search for victory.’

Cal is leaning gracefully against the marble fireplace, Elizabeth has her back to him. His thoughts are occupied with something he found this morning. He does not know how to tell her. He looks at her back, her hat blocking her hair that last night shone red, brown, and gold. Mrs. Berkeley’s confident voice breaks through his quiet observations. “Now my child, what news do you bring of my dear Samuel.”

Elizabeth sits up a little straighter. “Well...you see...though it does not have to do with Samuel directly, I want to inform you.” Mr. and Mrs. Berkeley are leaning over, listening intently and with anticipation.

Cal can hear the smile in her voice. ‘What can possibly be amusing about Samuel?’

“I am with child and Samuel is of course the father.” Before she can finish Mrs. Berkeley lets out a squeal like a mouse who has just found a big piece of cheese. Her eyes are shining with tears. She hugs Elizabeth and asks, “May I?”, as she gestures to Elizabeth’s womb and rests her black lace gloved hand on her stomach.

Cal is speechless, ‘this is going to change everything,’ or so he thinks. Mr. Berkeley takes a glass of brandy and pours himself a glass. He looks up at the maroon ceiling and says, “Well done my boy...well done,” and drinks the brandy. Mrs. Berkeley changes to a somber, “You poor dear, who will take a beauty such as yourself with a child? My son has given you a gift and a curse.”

Cal does not know what to do - ‘stand here, or do I say congratulations? How could she deceive me about this?’ He feels his temper rising.

“No Mrs. Berkeley, Samuel has not given me a curse, rather a gift, a reminder that a part of him is always with me. I promise to take care of this child, and perhaps come over for visits. There is also another matter that I wish to discuss with you.”

“Of course.”

“Perhaps Mr. Hockley could be here for this.” Cal obediently sits beside her. He wants to stare at the plebeian nipper growing inside of her, ‘How dare it take her away from me?’, but he refrains. “It’s the matter concerning my name before I married Samuel. It was DeWitt Bukater as you know. Since Samuel is gone I thought I would change it back since our vows are broken. I have never been through this process before.”

Mr. Berkeley asked, “Do you know of the process Caledon?”

“No, but I am certain I can find out. I do know that she has no legal right to be a guardian to the child. She has to marry quickly or become engaged.” For the first time that he has seen Elizabeth he pities her.

“There you have it dear, keep the name because you have to marry someone else anyway after a year of mourning. I suggest you stay here until the child is born. I can help raise it and it will be in best society. Our Berkeley name is a very good name after all,” Mrs. Berkeley encourages as her large beetle eyes study Elizabeth. “We have much to celebrate. Please come to the dining room,” she gestures.

Elizabeth is in a daze. She wanted to be free to raise her child but that expectation is now broken. She is reminded that she has no rights. ‘Who will want me when I am ripe with someone else’s child?’ Elizabeth would be forced to give away her baby because society doesn’t deem it appropriate for her to raise the child that she bears.

Cal can see that something is not right. ‘Her blue gaze is distant and her fingers are twitching.’

“I am just going to bring Elizabeth outside for some fresh air.” Since the first time they met their silence is no longer comfortable.

Cal is internally seething because she did not tell him. When he turns to look at her tears fall down her cheeks.

She looks so broken that a part of him breaks at the sight. She does not bother to wipe the tears away because more keep coming. “ I can’t...I can’t...I can’t,” she murmurs over and over again, “I can’t give my baby away.”

“No one is going to take your baby from you. You will find someone to marry.”

“Who...who will have me, a woman with a fatherless child who is in mourning. I can’t live here in this house Cal. Maybe Mrs Berkeley was right, maybe this child is a curse.” Upon saying this she knows she is wrong, her stomach lilts as if the child is protesting against the idea as well. 

“No Elizabeth, don’t say such things. The mourning period will have to be shortened, and the ceremony will have to happen in less than six months. In that time I will do the honour of marrying you and being your husband and father to your child...our child.” He continues, “I don’t have a ring to bestow upon your finger. I will acquire one that will redeem this oversight.” His voice is very tender, and his eyes are soft, and kind. She knows it is right, people get married for far less. This was Samuel’s gift, his friend who he knew she would fall in love with, and a child who would be surrounded by much love and would want for nothing. So she replies, with what any women would say when her man proposes “...Yes.”


	9. No More Mourning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, 
> 
> At the end of future chapters I will provide an extended fact, there will be an * beside the fact, I find this time period fascinating. I hope you enjoy this chapter and what comes next.  
> I enjoy having your supportive company on this voyage with me and these characters.
> 
> Sincerely,  
> Mystic of the West

The DeWitt Bukater women return home from lunch with the Berkeley’s. Elizabeth told them of her very surprising news while they rode together in the carriage. They are mystified, in a haze of awe, confusion, and trepidation. 

~

Ruth has felt many emotions in her life, especially when she became a wife and mother; however she cannot think of a time when she has felt both embarrassed and enamoured. It is unheard of and not considered proper in best society for a man to propose without seeking the permission from his intended’s parents. She supposes her recently widowed daughter and her newly accepted fiancé will cause quite the scandal. ‘Elizabeth...Elizabeth...Elizabeth,’ she thinks,as she walks silently to her room, shaking her head at her daughters’ unfounded rebellious nature. ‘What kind of example are you being for Rose?’ “I need a tea,” she mutters. “Trudy bring me some tea!” she orders down to the maid who is collecting her daughters’ cloaks. 

~

Rose is awestruck by Elizabeth’s news. Of all the traditional proposals she has heard and read about, this is definitely modern. “There is to be a wedding and it will not be mine! Inadvertently B has come to my rescue...again,” she thinks to herself silently as Elizabeth walks to her room. “A proposal without formal permission - I have never heard of such a thing!” she mutters, as she fondly watches Elizabeth ethereally walk up the stairs slowly, as if she is avoiding stepping on a rare invisible creature that only she can see. Rose hears the soft click of her door closing. She wants to holler excitedly out of anticipation and inspiration. She decides that the best plan of action is to let out this exclamation of freedom from her mother’s effortless pursuits in the privacy of her room, so she to retreats to her walls of comfort. As she takes light steps on the steep stairs and releases a small giggle, she strides with pride, before collapsing on her bed with a contented sigh.

~

After some time alone with Silas as quiet company, Elizabeth goes to Rose’s room to talk. She would be going back to finishing school next week and Elizabeth wants to spend as much time with her as possible. She softly knocks while holding her dress for this evening, “Come in,” Rose replies.

“Did I say yes too soon?” Elizabeth asks. Some worry leaks into her tone as she shifts her feet from left to right, as if she is steadying herself on choppy seas. Her mind is frazzled as she continues to explain, “He will be coming soon and I fear I won’t be able to look him in the eyes. I can’t help but compare this with my feelings for Samuel and they don’t compare in the slightest. That feels disgraceful. I know I made the right choice to accept.” 

“How do you know?” Rose asks curiously. Her blue eyes are calculating and her head is tilted to the side watching as Elizabeth explains to her, “Because it’s completely ludicrous. That’s how I know it’s right.” 

Rose beams at Elizabeth, ‘B is going to change the world.’ She does not realize they both are. 

“I keep getting pulled to him as if there is an invisible thread pulling us together. Does that sound absurd?” Elizabeth confides.

“Maybe a little, but it’s also romantic. Is that the dress you are going to wear?” Rose asks, as she eyes the beautiful grey beaded, silk and chiffon gown on the bed thoughtfully. 

“Yes, what do you think? I am ready to not wear black, especially for this occasion.” 

“I think you will look beautiful in this gown, it’s one of your favourites.” 

“We should go shopping before you go back to finishing school. We also need to celebrate your birthday before you go back.” 

“Yes, I was thinking about that too. As my birthday is in April I don’t think that they will give me a leave of absence to come home. Do you think we could celebrate it on the fourteenth of February?”

“That’s close. Mother will be busy with my engagement. We will need to help where we can.” Elizabeth eagerly departs with Rose following closely behind, fondly shaking her head at Elizabeth’s exuberance. Elizabeth wants to see the progress of dinner. Her wish for to-day is to make a good impression on her future husband. They need to keep their engagement secret for as long as possible otherwise she will be quite the scandal. ‘Cal does not seem to be the kind of man who attracts the wrong kind of attention.’ She enters the kitchen to find no servants and no food being prepared. “Margaret!” She calls. 

“Yes Miss Elizabeth?” 

“Did my mother not give instructions for dinner?” 

“No Miss Elizabeth. I figured something was amiss so I started early. We have so far made a barley cream soup, cod with mushrooms in cider, parsnip and turnips with ginger served with penne pasta, orange sorbet, roasted duck with orange, and a selection of different cheese.” 

“We have a special guest coming. It’s quite a surprise and I think my mother is in shock so I will help to prepare the rest of dinner.”

“But miss Eli...” 

“No buts Margaret. I helped in the kitchen when I was little.” 

“Very well...if the madame sees us...”

“...I will hide in the pantry,” Elizabeth states simply as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Margaret shakes her head, thinking, ‘this young woman certainly is a rebel, if even in the smallest way.’  


“Rose would you please play the piano for us?” Elizabeth asks in a playful tone that is disguising a giggle that would erupt as a hiccup if released. Rose does not question what mischief Elizabeth is up to. She is curious to find out what is being created behind her mother’s back. ‘Besides my piano skills do need practicing and this is the perfect moment to practice.’  


“Warn us when mother is here,” are Elizabeth’s only instructions to Rose. 

“Margaret, please show me how I can be of assistance.”

‘I am to teach Miss Elizabeth, how improper,’ she thinks, as she hides a gleeful smile under her upturning lips.

“I don’t spend much time in the kitchen. It seems wrong for me to tell you what to do. I am here to help in whatever way you need me,” Elizabeth kindly explains to her. 

In the stone kitchen by the warm hearth they stand on sandstone floor tiles, mistress and servant working harmoniously together. The calming piano music is not reflected in the kitchen where it seems as though the pantries have exploded creating a mess everywhere.‘How did a splash of oil get all the way up there?’ Margaret wonders, as she quickly glances at the wooden cupboard above her. 

Margaret has not had this much fun in a long time. She did not know that preparing a salad could create such mayhem! Even though Miss Elizabeth is making a mess it is an elegant mess, ‘I have never seen an elegant mess maker before.’ Now it is time for the dessert lesson. A plum cake with custard is to be served, ‘and I need to show Miss Elizabeth how,’ Margaret thinks with some trepidation. 

Elizabeth is very excited for this. She has only ever eaten dessert, never made a dessert. There were the few times that she can remember when she was little where she would help make afternoon cookies. Shadows come to visit, she briefly closes here eyes, ‘This is different,’ she tells herself, willing the visiting shadows away. 

Margaret begins her cake making lesson. “First, we need to clean up this area. Then we take the plums that have been preserved from last summer and chop what you can in half. I will heat the stove for baking.” 

When Elizabeth is finished halving the plums she delicately places the knife back on the wood board, as if it is an extra appendage that was briefly an extension of herself. In a humble, quiet tone she informs Margaret, “I have finished the plums, now what would you like me to do?” 

“Right,” Margaret pauses as she thinks, ‘Cooking and teaching are two different art forms.’ 

“The wooden bowl is on the counter. Toss them with the cardamom, cinnamon, brown sugar, and nutmeg. Once that is done, tastefully place the plum concoction into this pan. Well done miss!” she praises Elizabeth, giving her an encouraging smile.

‘Perhaps Miss Elizabeth is more of a baker than a cook. She has a artful hand when it comes to food.’ 

“Now we combine the milk, orange zest, orange juice, and vanilla. What a treat it is to have oranges, a truly festive evening! Now in this bowl we stir the flour, baking powder, and salt. While you do this I will beat the egg. It is a very delicate process. You are welcome to watch. It is important to have enough air when doing the butter and sugar. Too little beating will make it dense and too much will make the cake too airy and fall apart.” 

Elizabeth is fascinated. ‘Baking is simply complex, a gentle balance,’ she thinks. Her gaze is wide with wonder and excitement. 

“Now add the dry ingredients to the egg mixture and add the milk mixture as well alternating a little bit at once...here let me show you.” Margaret adds a little of the flour then she adds the milk to the bowl with the egg mixture. One at a time gracefully and meticulously so that little is wasted. “It is to prevent lumps. No one wants to eat a lumpy cake. That would not be fine dining would it miss?” 

Elizabeth is enamoured with the blessed hands that Margaret has. 

“Now pour the mixture on top of the plums. Then we put in the oven. Well done Miss Elizabeth you have created a culinary experience!”

“Don’t congratulate me yet Margaret for it’s not yet baked.” 

“No, quite right, now we must make the custard.” 

“Margaret, may I ask a question?” 

“Of course Miss Elizabeth.” 

“How did you know to make all this food before my mother asked you?” 

“I have been serving your family for quite some time now. You learn things about your mistresses. Sometimes even before they know it about themselves,” Margaret says, with a giggle, her strong british accent echoing off the stone walls. She realizes what she has just said, and covers her mouth with her lightly calloused hand. Her hand is just beginning to show the signs of age, with little cracks from winter’s cold. “I did not mean to offend you Miss Elizabeth, I have spoken out of turn.” 

“It is quite all right Margaret. I asked the question. It is nice to know that you are watching and anticipating how you can help us,” Elizabeth says, as she soothes her with a friendly smile and soft tone. ‘A friend...yes that is what Margaret is...a friend.’ 

“Madame also mentioned something about a dinner last night upon her return and so we planned and started early this morning,” Margaret admits. 

“Can you show me how to make the custard also?” Elizabeth asks eagerly. Margaret smiles amusedly at Elizabeth’s enthusiasm. She sees her as a friend. The two women finish the custard, cake, and preparing the other foods to cook in the right order, Rose starts to signal on the piano that Ruth is coming by playing a more dramatic tune as her fingers lightly slam the keys. 

Elizabeth does what she said she would do if her mother arrived, she sneakily goes to hide in the pantry. Margaret smiles inside at the playful soul. 

“MARGARET...MARGARET...MARGARET,” comes Ruth’s banshee-like scream. “The dinner Margaret, the dinner is ruined. I forgot to tell you.” 

“Mother whatever is the matter?” Rose asks, from the parlour rubbing her ears gracefully with a well disguised grimace on her face. 

“No Madame, everything is well underway. The soup is all prepared and heated up. The salad is all ready and will be dressed on time. The sorbet is in the ice box. The meats are marinating and will be roasted, and we will all be waiting for when the guest of honour comes.” 

“But Margaret, I didn’t tell you about this dinner, did I?”

“You did last night Madame, when the gentleman came carrying your daughter.” 

“Right. Of course.” During the past few days time has been a great illusionist. Ruth cannot fathom it’s tricks in this moment. She feels as if she is standing or sitting still, not sure which. So many things are happening around her. She is in a dark place looking up at the world passing her by, ‘Is it dark or is it light?’ she asks herself before she is pulled back to the kitchen by a loud sound. 

Elizabeth overhears and listens to the muffled conversation crouched in the pantry where she is surrounded by red and sweet onions. 

“Margaret, have you seen Elizabeth?” Rose asks, with light curiosity. 

Elizabeth does not want Margaret to lie for her so she summons up the courage to quietly, and as stealthy as possible, exit the pantry, pretending to be entering from the garden. As she tries, being the clumsy person she is, she does not notice the rolling pin on the floor. She places her left hand on the rolling pin only to just realize and fall forward head first out of the pantry. “What is that racket?” she hears her mother say. 

“It’s me mother. I was hungry and could not stop thinking about almonds. I heard Margaret was busy making dinner for this evening so I thought I would help myself. I didn’t notice the rolling pin on the ground,” she says as she picks herself up from the hard tile floor and hides her purple stained fingers behind her back. This is not a lie. All of this cooking and baking has made her hungry and for some reason she cannot stop thinking about almonds. 

Ruth smiles in what seems like amusement and in a soft tone asks, “Are you alright?” Elizabeth silently nods, overcome by her mother’s soft tone. “Perhaps it would be best if you spent sometime with your sister before Mr. Hockley arrives,” Ruth tells her. 

Elizabeth bows her head in acceptance and says, “As you wish.” 

The two sisters leave the kitchen to go spend time in the sleeping garden.


	10. Children Within

In the garden, under a blanket of misty silver cloud that is slowly darkening to a steely grey, a cool breath of winter breeze ushers in an impending rain, whisking their black and navy skirts lightly around them. Elizabeth’s black skirt has clouds of flour on it, matching the inky pond she is looking into. Rose’s navy blue skirt lightly whips around her. The gold buttons on her dark blue bodice are subdued in the matte light, as she looks up at the darkening silver tendrils of light above her. 

They are silently reflecting on the passing of this day. Elizabeth is staring into the calm waters of the pond, with it’s islands of melting ice hugging the rocky shores. “B, what are you doing?” Rose asks fondly. 

“Looking,” is the absent minded reply. “In this water, I see my true self.” 

“Oh?” 

“Don’t you remember as children we would come and play the stories that father would tell you. Stories about quests, undines, and treasure. Remember we would hide one of mother’s crystal chalices from each other here, pretending it was the holy grail and we were searching for it.” 

Rose smiles dreamily while thinking of the memory. 

“In these waters I see my depths, the unknown part of me that I am discovering with courage,” Elizabeth confides to Rose, as she gracefully walks away from the basin covered in a murky glaze.

“You are home most of the time and when you are not home you are at a dinner party or theatre. How can you discover yourself?” Rose asks, as they walk to the glass covered conservatory housing exotic plants and a crystal clear swimming pool.

“We should go for a swim,” Elizabeth suggests. 

“Not to-day, as you say I have my crimson tide.” 

“Do you need any herbs?” 

“I am fine for now. Now tell me what are you discovering?” 

“I am discovering what kind of mother I want to be and I discovered I can make a cake.” Elizabeth says, as she lightly hops with excitement. Rose smiles at Elizabeth’s excitement, and asks with slight surprise, “When did you make a cake?” And as if putting the pieces of this afternoon together she gasps, “You lied to mother?!”

“No I was hungry for almonds,” Elizabeth says, with wide eyes and an emotionless face. 

Rose shakes her angelic head of curls and chuckles to herself as she thinks, ‘Cal is going to have his hands full. A wife who makes cake, quite the scandal.’ She loves her sister so very much.

“You are going to be sixteen Rose.Mother is going to be badgering you to find a husband probably the day after your birthday. What are you going to do?” Elizabeth asks her gravely.

“I am not like you Elizabeth. I don’t flourish when trapped.” 

“No one does. I just try to make the best of a situation,” Elizabeth retorts. “Plus I don’t have just me to think about anymore. You need freedom Rose. Father knew that. He would always twirl you in the air and call you,  _ Ma petite fille-papillo _ _n_ *. You need to fly. Me marrying Cal will give you some freedom but just some, before mother wants to play matchmaker again. You are like a butterfly, you need a great love that flies with you. You are strong Rose. There’s a reason why your name is Rose. You are both beautiful and strong, you need a man who sees you for your strength, not just your beauty.” 

Rose is speechless. She hugs Elizabeth as if she is a rock in a dark sea by a near shore that she cannot yet see. In the world of love she has much to learn about herself before she is ready for another. She knows she can always be seen and heard by Elizabeth. With Elizabeth she can always be childlike. “Let’s find some greenery and what flowers are growing for the table,” she suggests.

“That’s a really good idea,” Elizabeth agrees.

“It only makes sense since you made the cake. The least I can do is find decoration for the table.” While Rose is cutting flowers and greenery Elizabeth looks on across the vast garden and grows weary. She goes to the gazebo and finds one of the dark grey wool blankets whose fibres tickle her into a comfortable nap.

As Rose is thinking about Elizabeth’s words she finds a snowdrop and remembers what her mother said, “ _They are an omen of death and bad luck_.”** ‘How can such an innocent looking flower hold such a vile meaning?’ Rose does not fear death. She fears being trapped in a gilded cage. ‘A trapped fille-papillon.’ As she thinks this, her eyes start to mist with unshed tears. 

There are no other flowers in the garden, not yet. The earth is resting before the blooming of spring. She collects a bouquet of ferns, with healthy green fronds. She continues onwards, looking casually for Elizabeth. It takes her some time, since Elizabeth is an expert wanderer. 

When she comes upon Elizabeth she finds her asleep under the roof of the gazebo, hand under her head, stretched out like Silas by the evening fire. Rose thinks, ‘maybe I can say good afternoon to the baby.’ 

Elizabeth feels a soft weight land on her and half opens her eyes to see Rose’s head resting on her abdomen. 

As if sensing Elizabeth is awake she mumbles, “How long until you can feel it move?”

“Not for a little while longer I think. When it happens you will be one of the first to know.” 

Suddenly it starts to downpour. The rain on the roof sounds like pounding hail. They are dry under the gazebo. “Come Rosie, time to get inside. We need to have a bath and get ready for this evening”, Elizabeth tells her with hurried excitement. 

The two women who were once girls, flee their resting enchanted garden as their screams of enchantment echo across the sleeping land. Soon they are to become subdued genteel women, drops of water in a freely flowing river blocked by a dam. 

The garden is a place where they can authentically play. Now it is time go and be women of best societal standing. Their mother is a socialite after all and their father had a good name. 

With futures planned out from the moment they were born, it is as if their destinies are carved out on old cold stones. Futures centred around marriage as if it is the sun and all their experiences in life rotate around it like planets in a far away galaxy. 

However life can have a way of foiling plans. Even the best of plans unfold in a way we do not realize, to make us grow in a way we cannot even see. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * My little butterfly girl  
> ** The meaning of the snowdrop has evolved overtime. Presently in flower symbology it is a flower that represents renewal and rebirth. In the Victorian times though it was considered a very unlucky flower. A a lot of people would put them on gravestones. Ruth lived during the Victorian era so I considered it appropriate that she had this view. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter just as much I enjoyed creating it.


	11. To Restoring Dignity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the character Nathan Hockley or any of the other characters that I have previously noted in my disclaimers. They belong to James Cameron and Paramount Pictures. 
> 
> I hope that you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Elizabeth and Rose enter the kitchen while Trudy is putting the ferns in the porcelain vase with the purple and gold inlay of butterflies and flowers spiralling around the ornamental cylinder. 

When Elizabeth sees the table she takes a deep breath. She senses that something is different about to-night, though she does not know what.

“Come B lets get ready to greet our special guest, well maybe I should say your special guest,” Rose tells her with a slight giggle. Seeing Rose this lighthearted causes Elizabeth to smile and giggle as well. 

In the same manner as they have prepared for many previous dinners, the two sisters help each other get dressed. After all these years they know what the other wants and how to do it. 

Elizabeth observes Rose’s reflection in the wooden standing mirror as she helps her into her corset and evening gown. ‘Rose is very beautiful, with her mane of cascading dark red curls. Her expressive blue eyes can be welcoming pools of warmth or an icy stare that chills the beholder to the bone. Her angelic facial features beckon for a second look.’ 

To-night Rose is wearing a gown that their mother objects to. A stunning lavender evening gown with short sleeves, black, silver, and purple beads. She twirls in the long gown causing the beads to twinkle and shine against each other, as she ignores the uncomfortable hot heaviness of her sanitary bloomers*. 

Elizabeth’s evening gown lays across Rose’s bed where she had placed it earlier. It’s light grey, almost blue, fabric glistens in the late afternoon light. With an opal stone centre the blue sash has two more opals surrounded by pearls gracing the back. Beaded embroidery of what looks like peacock feathers to Elizabeth’s eyes adorns the skirt.

As she adjusts her undergarments Elizabeth is very grateful that corsets have been improved upon and Annette, her dressmaker, procured a ‘soutien-gourge’ for her from France.** She deftly tightens her bust support on top.*** Rose holds the smooth silk gown for Elizabeth to don. The grey fabric cascades down her curves, flowing as if it is made out of cool grey waters itself. She feels her body hum with beauty.

Arm in arm the two sisters make their way to the drawing room where they will begreeting their much anticipated guest. 

Ruth in her green evening gown, with yellow accent sleeves and a floral patterning on the skirt, greets her stunning daughters with brimming pride. She cannot even make herself detest Rose’s gown and her offensive taste in colour. The DeWitt Bukater women are dressed to impress this evening. “You both look enchanting. Elizabeth I want you to be the hostess for this evening.” 

“As you wish mother,” Elizabeth replies gracefully, even though inside her stomach is unnerved. ‘Something is not right,’ Elizabeth ponders, as she sips water in a crystal goblet to calm her lilting stomach. 

The doorbell rings and she is startled out of her sense of trepidation, ‘This is it, will he suddenly be a stranger to my eyes?’ Her rapidly beating heart is all she can hear as she sees Margaret guiding this evening’s company into the receiving room saying, “May I introduce Mr. Hockley, and, Mr. Hockley.” 

Ruth struggles markedly to maintain her surprise in a dignified manner, as she watches the two tall men enter the room. It is transparently clear that they are father and son. She has met Nathan Hockley on several occasions with her late husband. ‘He is handsome there is no doubt. His cruelty though is wafting off of him like a rotten stench. Be wary of him Ruth, be wary. Do not be consumed by his handsome looks.’ She can feel her eyebrows uncontrollably raise and lower. She can feel her lips pursing on their own accord. Worse and above all she is not expecting two guests. 

Rose’s eyebrows raise in surprise, mirroring her mother’s.

Elizabeth knows what she has to do. She was trained for this. This is the only part of finishing school she paid attention to - how to greet your future in laws. She already has had previous practice with Samuel’s parents. The only problem is with Mr. Hockley. ‘He is looking at me like how some of father’s friends would look at me, as if I am...well a specimen of sorts.’ All she knows is that he is making her quite uncomfortable. ‘I need to be brave and confident even if I do not feel it inside.’ 

“How do you do Mr. and Mr. Hockley. I am Elizabeth Berkeley DeWitt Bukater. May I present my mother and sister, Madame and Miss DeWitt Bukater.” 

Ruth and Rose bow in unison as they say, “How do you do.” 

Elizabeth continues her duties as hostess, “Please sit. We have some refreshments before dinner and hors d’oeuvre as well, caviar to be exact on this afternoon’s freshly baked bread.” 

Nathan Hockley is looking down his nose at her with a deeply scrutinizing gaze, quietly questioning in his mind, ‘If this is the beauty that has caused quite the scandal I can see why Caledon is taken by her. There is something enchanting about her, witchcraft perhaps.’****

‘Did I say something wrong?’ Elizabeth thinks, as she resists the urge to twiddle her grey gloved fingers. 

Cal is in a daze, ‘She is even more beautiful when she is not wearing black.’ Oh he is done for and he knows it. 

“I hope your ride here was most pleasurable,” Elizabeth says in an amicable tone. 

Nathan Hockley sits down on the light blue settee. “I think we are beyond trivial, aren’t we Ms. Berkeley? Imagine my surprise when my son comes home to me after weeks of being gone and announces to me that he is engaged to a woman...a woman I have not met in any societal event. I have only heard of you through your scandals. There’s a timely strategy for this proposal isn’t there?” he says, eyeing her abdomen with his dark unfriendly gaze.

He reminds Elizabeth of a hawk looking for prey. She resists the urge to rest her hand against her midriff under such a critical stare. She knows she has to tell him about the child even though he already knows it to be true. He needs to hear it from her. “What your son has told you is true, I am with child.” 

“Was it created out of wedlock?” 

“No, Mr. Hockley, the child is not your son’s. It is my dead husband’s.” 

“I see. Why the rush then?” 

“Because, Mr. Hockley, I fear that when the child is born the Berkeleys will take it away from me.” 

“Would that be such a bad thing?” 

“Father how could you say such a thing?!” Cal interjects passionately. 

“Quiet Caledon, you have given me many headaches.” 

When he says this something primal comes over Elizabeth, “I have been very polite with you Mr. Hockley. Yet here you are refusing to drink or eat the food we have offered you. Our cooks have been preparing for this evening since last night.

“May I also add that it was very uncouth of you to arrive at our estate unannounced and uninvited and then question my aptitude as a mother. I would just like to illuminate that I believe a mother and her child should stay together. I wouldn’t appreciate offending the Berkeleys because Samuel was a good man. 

“I am carrying this baby and will have to go through the many pains of childbirth and then to only have it taken away from me? Excuse me, while I compose myself.” 

Rose is very impressed by Elizabeth’s words and behaviour. She follows her sister outside because Mr. Hockley’s presence also makes her uncomfortable. She needs to find Elizabeth and see if she is alright. 

“When you find her please bring her back Rose,” Ruth orders, as she turns to Nathan Hockley apologetically. “I apologize for my daughter’s behaviour Mr. Hockley. It must be the changes her body is going through.” 

“No need Ms. DeWitt Bukater.” 

Cal does not know why Elizabeth’s mother is apologizing. Very few people have put his father in place like that. He is thinking about how Elizabeth will be a splendid mother. The thought of her in pain, however necessary, makes him ache. 

Rose finds Elizabeth on the back terrace overlooking the garden, her face is darkened but Rose can see her deep in thought as if she is wielding a sword of light against oncoming shadows. “I love you B. You spoke true.” 

“I didn’t know Cal’s father is so foreboding. Seeing him reminded me of some of the men who would visit when father was here.” 

“I know what you mean.” 

“Does mother want me to return?”

“Only once you are composed,” Rose tells her tenderly, as she gracefully leans on the white stone railing of the terrace. 

With a deep inhale and exhale of breath to ground and center herself, Elizabeth tells her, “I am composed.” 

Arm in arm the two sisters walk slowly and rigidly to the receiving room. “This is most excellent caviar,” they hear Nathan Hockley say, in his deeply pompous accent. 

“I am pleased that you are enjoying it,” Elizabeth says, as she comes around the corner to sit in the receiving room.

Cal can see her uneasiness and wants to extend his hand to her to let her know that he is here for her and proud. For a second he hesitates before a great admiration of her comes over him. He executes the gesture of holding her hand, feeling again the strange yet familar tingle. 

Nathan Hockley observes his son with this enigma of a woman. ‘He is very different around her.’ His behaviour reminds him of when Cal was a boy with soft eyes instead of the business man he is expected to be. His late wife’s words echo in his head, “ _Let him be happy. Find someone who he won’t have to control. Find someone who makes him shine like a child again.”_

Nathan Hockley knows that somehow, in such a short time, this woman has bypassed all of societies expectations. She found her way to his son or maybe it was the other way around. ‘This next moment is going to be very difficult and they better appreciate my effort,’ he thinks bitterly, as a hot pool of shame ripples in his belly.

“Ms. Berkeley, Miss DeWitt Bukater and Ms. DeWitt Bukater I apologize for my previous behaviour. A man of my standing must know better than to behave like that in front of three beautiful women. Your food and company are enchanting. Ms. Berkeley I can see that my son cares for you. If you would like to proceed with the engagement you have my permission. I know the circumstances are not easy but perhaps a small part of our society progresses. I only have one request.” Elizabeth makes eye contact with Nathan Hockley to let him know she is listening. “That the wedding takes place before the growth of the child develops into being obvious.” 

“Of course. I understand,” Elizabeth says. 

“May we decide on the date of the wedding before dinner?” Ruth asks. 

“I don’t see why not,” Mr. Hockley states. 

Ruth turns to Elizabeth and tells her in a tone that deserves no argument, “It will obviously have to be by the end of next month at the latest, Elizabeth.” 

“I know mother. Do you think the twenty-first of March, the first day of spring, is too late?” Elizabeth asks, turning to Cal, “Does that sound fine to you?” 

Cal nods and replies, “Yes.” thinking, ‘This is becoming real very fast.’ 

“Caledon, I will let Mr. and Mrs. Davenport know to stop seeking you to be a suitor for their daughter,” his father informs him. 

Cal nods silently to his father’s words, with his hand still intertwined with Elizabeth’s. He gives it a gentle and discreet squeeze to let her know he is hers’ and he is here. 

Elizabeth is perplexed, ‘Why is he seeking me when he is already being sought by another woman’s father? The Davenports are no less than the material people we are. I need to talk to him. If he can have someone else why is he interested in a tainted women carrying another man’s child?’ She needs to know the answer. The last thing she wants is to be a charity case. 

Trudy comes to the entrance of the receiving room to announce that dinner is ready and being served. Nathan Hockley offers Ruth his arm to lead her to the dining room, or her him, considering he does not know where the dining room is. 

Rose follows not too far, but far enough behind to share a soft proud smile at the new couple. Elizabeth returns her small smile. 

Cal moves to get up but notices that Elizabeth is staying seated, “Are you feeling alright? Would you like more water?” he asks gently.

“No, I am fine thank you. I was just reflecting on what your father said about Mr. and Mrs. Davenport seeking you to court their daughter,” she tells him matter of factly. “How long has he been corresponding with the Davenports?” Elizabeth asks curiously. 

His first thought is, ‘None of your business.’ Another part of him wants to share with her. Of all the places to profess the depth of his interest in this woman it has to be in this very tastefully decorated receiving room.

“Before Samuel’s death, we were going to advance courtship arrangements. Within me something didn’t seem right. His death taught me to cherish life. I saw you and something happened to me. You awakened a part of myself that I did not even know was there. You saw beyond Caledon Hockley and saw Cal. It sounds strange saying it aloud. When I first touched your hand,” he says, as he tenderly caresses her gloved palm and fingers, his voice changing into a deeper quiet tone, “there was a current of light that went through me. I have never felt more alive than when I am with you. I am different when I am with you. You make me want to be a better man, a better person. That is why I wanted to stop correspondence with the Davenports. My father wanted to meet you first.” 

“I hear your words Cal and I feel the light current as well. I question whether you want someone who is tainted. I have been touched and tainted by a man you respected. I am now carrying his child. Miss Davenport doesn’t have any of that.” Elizabeth has never held such a low value of herself as she does in this moment. 

“Maybe not.” he tells her, with a soft smile saying, “But she doesn’t make me want to be a better man. I doubt she would be the kind of woman to waltz with a child just to see them smile. Elizabeth, you are a remarkable woman. I have never seen anyone speak to my father and put him in his place the way you did. He treats everybody as if the world is his mill and he owns everyone and everything. I have never heard him apologize.” 

Elizabeth does the only thing her body wants her to do, she lays a gloved hand over his cheek, “He won’t be able to hurt you anymore. I won’t let him.”

“He hasn’t hurt me in a long time dearest,” he tells her honestly, as he clears his throat and his cheeks redden slightly. “Though I know I am not the child’s biological father I will raise it as if it were my own. I promise not to lay a hand on it in spite or anger. You have yet to learn that I can have quite the temper.” 

Elizabeth looks at him as if she is seeing through him. She stands up, her blue eyes holding his warm brown gaze. Taking his hand, she places it on her abdomen, and in a clear voice tells him, “Samuel is a father to this child in a way you will never be.” 

He wants to remove his hand violently from the woman before him. He turns his handsome face away, twisted in anger, ‘How can she be so tender and capricious at once?’ He feels the light current. She continues to hold his hand. His gaze moves up to linger on her blue eyes that are comforting and kind. She allows him to brood, before saying, “You will be the father to this child that Samuel will never be. You will hold this child when it’s first born. Watch while it takes it’s first steps. Hold it when it cries and rock it to sleep. Darling you will see this child grow with your love and presence.” 

His eyes start to shine with tears in this intimate moment. He is to be a father and with Elizabeth by his side he will be the best father possible. He sees that she has relinquished his hand. Her eyes are shining with amusement and warmth. With laughter in her voice and in a mirthful tone she says, “I look forward to learning more about you Cal.” Before he can fully process her words she coyly and gracefully runs out of the receiving room. 

He does not have to walk very fast or far because she is waiting for him near the stone wall dividing the dining room from what seems to be the larger sitting room or parlour. He approaches her and they walk arm in arm. He pulls out her dining chair for her to sit in. 

A lavish meal is bestowed in his honour as well as his father’s. He has never felt such gratitude well inside of him before. He wants this time to be infinite but he knows they are destined for different and greater experiences together. 

Nathan Hockley is very impressed with the quality and serving of the meal. Truth be told he does not know what to expect from a household with no male head figure in it. It seems that Ruth DeWitt Bukater is quite an accomplished disciplinarian to raise two daughters such as Elizabeth and Rose. “This is a very dignified meal,” he says aloud, to no one in particular.

“We knew we would be in good company so we only wanted to serve our best,” Elizabeth comments. 

“You should see what we serve to people we don’t deem important,” Rose quips lightheartedly. 

“Girls, that’s enough. You are making our esteemed guests uncomfortable,” Ruth chastises, seeing the signs of one of her daughters’ bantering matches. 

“Not at all,” Cal states jovially with a charming smile. 

Once the roast is brought out Margaret shows it to Ruth first. She inspects it before directing Margaret to bring it to Elizabeth for inspection since on a technicality she is hosting this meal. Elizabeth inspects the much anticipated course. The duck is not charred; there is no grease pooling on the plate; the spices are evenly spread out on the meat; and there is not a speck of food on the perimeter of the plate. Everything is nicely in the middle; the slices of orange are delicately organized around the duck that is still steaming and exceptionally plated. The roast course can be placed on the table. Elizabeth nods to Margaret and whispers, “Thank you Margaret.” Though she thought she was quiet and discreet Cal hears her. 

He has never heard someone thank a servant. He was taught that servants are there because there was no better place for them to be. They are not to be talked to or thanked. Elizabeth Berkeley DeWitt Bukater always has a way of surprising him. He does not know how to respond to Elizabeth’s gesture. They definitely need to discuss it in a future private conversation without his father present. They need to be clear on terms with servants as they are going to be raising a child together. They need to decide whether they will teach the child to ignore servants or thank them for doing their duty. ‘She probably has a perfectly plausible explanation’. 

“This duck is absolutely delectable,” he hears his father say. “Moist, not too dry.” 

“Our cooks have blessed hands,” Elizabeth replies with a polite smile. 

Cal wants to take this opportunity to connect with Rose, ‘We are going to be united as a family after all.’ 

‘Miss DeWitt Bukater...” Cal starts. 

“Please call me Rose. Miss DeWitt Bukater is my mother,” Rose tells him, playfully. 

Elizabeth unbecomingly snorts into her water glass, causing Cal to look at her in amusement. Her cheeks are touched red. 

Ruth glares at her daughters’ behaviour. “Don’t take offence to the truth, mother,” Rose tells her, as she ignores the icy stare that can freeze winter. 

“Would you like to be excused from the table Rose? Please have some decorum,” Ruth declares. 

“Maybe I will get expelled out of finishing school as well,” Rose postulates, as she stares at Elizabeth with a wicked smirk. Elizabeth looks at Rose with pleading horror and embarrassment. 

Cal delicately puts his utensils down and in amusement says, “That rumour was true?” While he looks at Elizabeth, his brown eyes shining with mirth, “You didn’t finish finishing school?” His mouth is turning up into a smile. 

“I know it’s absurd. The teachers deemed me unteachable, unladylike, and a heathen,” she tells him, in as serious a tone as she can muster, not even daring to make eye contact with her mother. 

Cal laughs, he truly laughs a deep, rich, booming laugh. Elizabeth thinks it to be one of the most beautiful sounds her ears ever did hear, ‘It is so deep and full of life.’ His laugh is officially her favourite sound, she wants to hear more. 

Nathan Hockley cannot remember the last time he heard Caledon laugh. “You put those teachers to shame because your manners have been exemplary to-night Ms. Berkeley,” he tells her sincerely. His deep gravelly voice is very different from Cal’s, as if he has rough pebbles in his throat and when he talks they grind together, creating sparks of anger and cruelty. 

“Thank you Mr. Hockley. My dignity has been restored by your kind compliment,” Elizabeth quips, her eyes shining with mirth. 

Mr. Hockley raises his sparkling crystal glass half full with champagne and, nodding in her direction, he toasts, “To Restoring Dignity.”

When the roast is finished it is time for the salad course. “The dressing on this salad is delicious,” Cal compliments. 

“It most definitely is. I will have to share your comments with the cooks, if that’s alright with you both,” Ruth says proudly. 

Elizabeth internally smiles and tries not to meet Rose’s knowing look. She has not felt this blissful in a while. The last times were when her father brought Silas home and then, when she did not finish finishing school, much to her mother’s disappointment. This is a very blissful moment that she believes she will wake up in the morning and treasure. 

The next course that is brought to the table is dessert. Elizabeth cannot prevent herself from squirming in her seat.Cal notices her strange movement and discreetly asks, “Are you alright?” 

“Yes,” she tells him firmly, forcing herself not to look at Rose and break her well practiced composure. 

“What is this fine looking culinary specimen?” Nathan Hockley asks.

Margaret looks at Ruth silently asking for permission to speak. Ruth silently directs her intense gaze that sometimes reminds Elizabeth of an animal hunting. Elizabeth gives Margaret a slight nod to present the dessert as if it is a long awaited guest, “Plum cake sirs and madames.” 

“Thank you Margaret,” Ruth tells her as she gracefully cuts a perfect bite of cake with her silver fork. 

‘Perhaps that is how they treat all of their servants in this house,’Cal thinks, as he puts the piece of cake in his mouth. He can taste the fragrant nutmeg and a hint of warming cinnamon. The tartness of the plums is perfect with the other spices that he can taste, but does not know by name. Words leave his head as he experiences the heavenly light texture of the cake. He almost moans in pleasure, then to his dismay, he does. 

The sound that he makes travels to Elizabeth’s loins. The images that sound conjures in her head; she has to resist the temptation to hear that sound again. She definitely wants to hear that sound again. 

‘What is coming over me? I am losing my decorum,’ he thinks, as his embarrassed gaze nervously flits back and forth like a hummingbird. He can feel heat rise in his cheeks.

Rose blushes. To her the sound Cal made was amusing. She has to hold her giggle in, which is very difficult. She has a muscle spasm instead, which, to her horror, directs itself to the handsome young gentlemen’s shin.

Having just put a piece of the sublime cake in his mouth he is shocked to reality by a kick so hard he cannot help but cry out in surprise. ‘I am lucky I did not choke,’ he thinks. If his face was not flushed and hot before, it is now, his whole profile ablaze with embarrassment. He hears the table settle into an unsettled silence. 

Glancing at his father Cal sees by his downturned mouth that he is just as disquieted. Strands of his black hair speckled with grey are rebelling against the compressing pomade as if there are jolts of electricity within him striking out, showing all of his displeasure. His well manicured son is behaving like a hang nail. 

Rose’s melodic voice cuts through this uncomfortable moment like scissors through satin, “I had a muscle tremor,” she explains quietly. 

“Are you alright?”Elizabeth asks with a concerned gaze and tone, her blue eyes studying Rose intently like an owl watching in the night. 

“Yes, don’t fret B it was an accident,” Rose tells her in a detached tone as she meets Cal’s recovering gaze. Rose gives him an apologetic smile. 

“Are you alright darling?” Elizabeth asks him with the same amount of concern she showed to Rose. She lays her small hand on his forearm. He does not shake her off, her touch is comforting and calming. She does not balk at his undignified moment. If she did notice her use of, “ Darling ,” she does not make it obvious. 

Cal blinks rapidly a few times to clear his head of the impact of her using that word. “I am alright, just surprised that’s all. No harm done,” he tells her evenly and honestly. 

Elizabeth smiles at Rose who gives a relieved smile back. 

As Cal watches Elizabeth he thinks, ‘This woman is a natural mother.’ 

“This cake really is very delicious,” Ruth comments, before she shares an idea, skillfully clearing the heated air of the impending romance and the past embarrassment, like sun on ice. “I have a proposition for you two girls and perhaps young Mr. Hockley if he chooses to accept. Rose has to go back to finishing school next week and they would like to go into town for shopping tomorrow. I was wondering, young Mr. Hockley, if you would like to escort them? If people talk, you can announce that you are courting Rose until the engagement of you and Elizabeth is announced, to avoid more scandal than there already is.” 

“Please Ms. DeWitt Bukater, call me Cal.” He attempts to meet Elizabeth’s alluring eyes that hide no truth to see what she thinks. He can tell by her evading body language that she wants him to make this decision of his own accord, “I would be honoured to accompany these two women on a shopping trip around town tomorrow.” 

“Splendid,” Ruth says with polite delight. “I will arrange for Edward to pick you up.”

“If you would like I believe there is a course of fruit and cheese in the parlour,” Elizabeth informs everyone sensing the end of dinner and the beginning of a new course. 

“How lovely,” Ruth compliments as she glides across the floor accompanied by the tall height of a quietly imposing Nathan Hockley. 

“May I?” Cal kindly asks as he offers Elizabeth his arm. Elizabeth silently nods with acceptance until she is struck by an idea. Playfully she asks, “Do you mind escorting two women, young Mr. Hockley?” 

“It would be my pleasure,” he says while matching her contagious playfulness. As he accompanies Elizabeth and Rose to the parlour he thinks, ‘She did not finish finishing school. Perhaps she missed that lesson about not calling men after their last name when he has told you his first name. This is not Britain. I am not offended.’ He accompanies Rose and Elizabeth to the parlour, one woman on each arm. 

When they sit down on the plush wooden rimmed gold coloured settees, Ruth asks, “Elizabeth and Rose, would you like to share your musical talent with Cal and Mr. Hockley?”

“What would you like to see? Our expositional dance or an original puppet show?”  Rose suggests sarcastically. 

“Or we could play the piano and sing a song we haven’t really practiced since you have been back,” Elizabeth counters seriously. 

“What a good idea Elizabeth!” Ruth proclaims as she lightly claps her hands like a well trained seal. 

Cal is curious to know what some of Elizabeth’s talents are. 

Nathan Hockley does not care for amateur music. He resists looking at the ticking clock as the power of invisible time guides his long awaited departure. 

“Josephine?”***** Rose asks hopefully.

“As you wish,” Elizabeth tells her as she sits comfortably on the wooden piano bench with the two candelabras alight on the piano. ‘We are amongst the flames of creativity,’ Elizabeth thinks, with a grateful internal smile, composing herself to keep her fingers steady and true as they appear to float on the black and white keys. 

Rose sings beside her. Her singing voice is gentle and angelic, reminding Elizabeth of a gently babbling brook or a soft bird song. She loves the sound of Rose’s voice, as if she is listening to a beckoning call. 

At the chorus of the song Elizabeth joins in and they harmonize the notes. 

In the second chorus Rose joins Elizabeth on the piano, both forgetting that they have an audience as they become consumed by the harmonious rhythm of the music. 

This is one of Rose’s favourites, actually it is her favourite song. Rose is experiencing a rare moment of pure joy. She feels as if something within her flies in this song. She is more academic and externally focused then Elizabeth. Whenever she hears this song something changes within her. The outside world vanishes, a part of her feels as if she is soaring over salting foamy seas in a time between time. Her musings are cut off by the applause of their forgotten audience. Rose shares a sheepish smile with Elizabeth. 

“Splendid, absolutely splendid!” she hears her mother proudly exclaim. 

Elizabeth and Rose humbly laugh together, “We might need more practice,” Rose analyzes as she thinks back to the impromptu performance. “It was our first time performing in front of an audience.” 

“If that is what you think, Rosie, we can practice tomorrow morning before we leave,” Elizabeth suggests patiently. Knowing about Rose’s quest for perfectionism. 

“Sounds like a plan. What did you think?” 

“Rose, I am too tired to think,” Elizabeth tells her wearily. 

“Oh, but you must tell one of your stories,” Rose prods. 

“Rose, your sister is tired and is in delicate condition,” Ruth reminds her with a stern tone. 

“She always does it when we have guests,” Rose states with a slight whine. 

“This won’t be the only time we will visit,” Nathan Hockley says, as kindly as possible. 

Through her weary gaze Elizabeth does not like the way Cal’s father looks at Rose. It is the way men looked at her when she was little. She decides that just because Mr. Hockley apologized, ‘I will not trust him. He is unnerving. The sooner Rose goes back to finishing school the better.’ 

“Elizabeth...Elizabeth...Elizabeth,” a voice calls attempting to break through her mental shadows. A calm settles over her, from the simple touch on her bare hand. Amidst her heavy lidded eyes she looks at Cal intently while her mind is consumed with thoughts, ‘Will he hurt me? I do not know. I will give him no reason to try.’ 

No stories come to her this evening. Her mind is plagued by shadows. Unbeknownst to her, her breathing starts to quicken, and familiar unwelcome dark spots enter her vision. 

From the kitchen Silas senses that there is something wrong with his lady. He runs to her and puts his large head on her lap. He needs her to be alright. She has smelled different for quite some time now. 

“B it’s alright you are here, right here, feel my hand,” Rose pleads in a calm soothing tone as she strokes her confined hair, high atop her head. 

Elizabeth is not sure what happened for the duration of the evening. Later Rose would tell her that mother accompanied Cal and Mr. Hockley to the front door bidding their auspicious guests farewell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I just want to make a side note that not all women who identify as women have periods. To be inclusive I am going to refer to women as females. For those females that did have their periods, feminine hygiene products did exist in 1911. There were several products that were patented; some were improved on later. They had belted pads and rubber cups that would be inserted. There were also sanitary bloomers that Rose wears that got improved on in the 1930s. It is also good to point out that menstruation was often not talked about or experienced after 15-20 years old because of pregnancy and lactation. 
> 
> ** Corsets were a big part of women’s life during the time before the brassiere. Some women could not wear them because of injuries caused to their rib cage and so in 1889 Herminie Caddolle, invented what is known as one of the first bras in France. In 1905 the upper half of the split corset was called the soutien-gourge which is what I read bras are still called in France today. Even though in 1910 the bra was created by a young New York socialite by the name of Mary Phelps Jacob. For the purpose of this story I chose to go with the soutien-gourge. 
> 
> *** The bust supporter from my understanding is what goes over the corset to create a smooth line and gives more support. 
> 
> **** Witchcraft in 1910 especially, was quite different than what was considered witchcraft during the Salem witch trials for instance. People started to celebrate Halloween parties during 1910 and maybe even before. Nevertheless it was advertised that witches are beautiful and enchanting instead of ugly and conniving. I thought it appropriate that Nathan Hockley would be warily curious about Elizabeth because he grew up in a time most likely where witches were feared instead of revered. 
> 
> ***** Titanic fans probably know the song that is referenced twice in the film. “Come Josephine in My Flying Machine.” Jack sings it to Rose on the bow of the ship and Rose sings it quietly as she lies on the wooden board staring up at the stars. They also sing it together in a deleted scene. I think that Rose obviously knew the song before she met Jack. This song was written and published in 1910 by Blanche Ring before Ada Jones and Bill Murray recorded a duet in 1910 and released it in 1911, which is perfect timing for this story, I could not find the day in 1911. 
> 
> Thank you for joining me on this voyage. All the best from Mystic of the West.


	12. Talk of Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This is a heavy chapter because it talks about child abuse and physical abuse. I reveal why Elizabeth freaks out as she did. Child abuse and all abuse is ugly and gross and leaves scars that take a long time to heal and if and when the scars do heal there may be a lot of scar tissue. 
> 
> This story is not going to romanticize abuse and there will be no victim saving. 
> 
> Elizabeth ultimately saves herself.  
> As a future chapter spoiler Rose is not going to be abused. Her character does not need to experience such cruelty. 
> 
> That being said or written no one needs to see or experience that amount of cruelty. Unfortunately too many people and story characters do. 
> 
> I hope this chapter does not upset anyone.  
> I can only say read at your own risk. 
> 
> I will be back with what I hope is a more positive chapter soon, 
> 
> Take Care, 
> 
> Mystic of the West

Just as his father boards the carriage Cal tells him, “Father go home.” 

“Where do you think you are going?!”

“I need to go back inside. Be with Elizabeth and assist where I can. I need to make sure that she knows I won’t abandon her over some fit,” Cal tells his father hurriedly, not waiting for a response. 

After sending the carriage away, while walking back to the house, he reflects on his evolution. Before he became an engaged man when he met any woman who seemed too dull or too much work to entertain he would leave her on the dance floor. Elizabeth stumbled into his life. He can see that she is a tortured soul and yet the last thing he wants to do is leave her, not even for an evening. He is really taken with this woman. 

When he rings the bell Trudy answers, opening the large wooden door slightly, her bushy head of hair blocking his view from the rest of the house. “Young Mr. Hockley you best not be here,” she tells him in a forced whisper, her eyes darting from left to right. 

He will not let a servant tell him to leave, he has standards, “I didn’t want to leave knowing that she was not alright,” he tells Trudy, honestly and politely.

“I will get Madame DeWitt Bukater.” 

He waits for what seems longer than a single moment, but really it is less, yet his patience is wearing thin. “Cal did you forget something...where is the carriage?” Ruth asks, looking over his tall shoulder, bewildered that there is no carriage or the sound of snorting and huffing horses present. 

“I sent it away. I will stay until morning if I have to. I care deeply for your daughter, Ruth. I didn’t want to leave knowing she was not alright,” he explains. 

Her eyes soften and she opens the large door wider for him to enter. 

‘Now is the time for vulnerability and honesty,’ she thinks as she leads him to the parlour. 

“Please sit. Calm yourself. We settled her enough to be brought upstairs. Rose is with her as we speak. She’s having a bath and some tea.” 

Ruth takes a deep breath as if she is preparing herself to conquer a formidable beast. “I can see that you care greatly for my daughter. This was a conversation that I didn’t have with Samuel and I regret that. He didn’t treat her the way she deserved. I am confusing you. I can see that. Let me start with asking you a few questions if you permit?”

“Of course”, Cal says, comfortably and easily. 

“What has Elizabeth told you about her relationship with her father, if anything?” Ruth asks vaguely. 

“She told me that he was a fine man. He gave her Silas. That’s all.” 

Ruth shakes her head, ‘My dear, dear child.’ 

“Please let me finish the story before you say anything. This is a family secret. Later on in his life her father was as you said, but not at first. He had difficulty holding his drink and would become uncontrollable. When Elizabeth was just starting to walk her father adored her. She was a beautiful girl. When I was carrying Rose it was a very fragile time for both Rose and I. A part of me fears Elizabeth carrying this child.

“You have to understand that all of my energy was focused on Rose and bringing a healthy child into this world and to be alive myself to see her grow. 

“At this time her father would have dinner parties of mainly men. When they became heavy with drink her father would go up into her room...” Ruth has to stop and get control of herself. Her insides feel as if she she is experiencing an earthquake. After a moment she continues, “He would carry her down and take off her clothes and have her on display. Men would come and touch her, make her touch them, they would look at her. The servants were sworn to secrecy. This would go on for hours until the last guest would leave. He would put her back to bed as if it all never happened. This went on for another few years. 

“When Elizabeth was five and Rose three he wanted to do the same to Rose. He tried. He had them both on display. He told me what happened when Elizabeth stood in front of Rose and in the loudest voice a five year old can muster she said, ‘ _No touch, no touch sissy, you can touch me_.’  When a man tried to touch Rose she bit him, pushed Rose off the table, and told her to run. 

“I woke up to realize that upstairs was unusually quiet and my children were not anywhere. I heard Rose cry for me. She was nude and trying as much as her three year old legs could to climb the stairs. I asked Rose where her sister was and she pointed downstairs. I walked as quietly as I could downstairs only to find my eldest nude being lashed by her fathers belt. I stood over her to protect her. She was passed out from the pain. Outside there was an extremely loud sound. I believed that one of the servants was trying to divert his attention but it has never been confirmed. 

“I carried Elizabeth to my room and locked the door. When she woke up she was in a fevered pain. 

“Somehow her father never could forgive himself for what he did to Elizabeth. He could still spend time with Rose, she doesn’t remember and that is what they did. He taught Rose everything he knew about the woods. One time I caught Elizabeth, it was not the first time she would follow Rose and her father. Originally he got Silas for Rose. That dog went right for Elizabeth. Rose could not have cared less. Her father ignored Elizabeth until his untimely death. Do you have any questions?” 

“She seems to be very comfortable in the forest. I assumed someone had to teach her if it was not her father...” 

“She started by tracking their footprints. I don’t know very much. I assume she followed them and listened to some of the lessons. She would think about what her father would teach Rose. She then learned about what the forest had to teach. I know you know that my Elizabeth sees the world differently.” 

“Yes. She does, a relief really. You know I won’t...” 

“Before you say anything you can’t agree to let me tell you about some of her time with Samuel. Some of this may be upsetting to you so you can tell me to stop when you need to compose yourself,” Ruth tells him sternly and gently. 

Cal silently nods. 

“Samuel didn’t know about her fits from me. I never took the time to have this talk with him. I assumed he was a respectful man who would rather not strike a woman than society telling him he had to. 

“I went over to their house a month after the wedding to find my Elizabeth very subdued,she was quiet, she had dark circles under her eyes. I thought she might have messed up her powder. What bothered me was that Samuel would never leave us alone together. I was not bothered enough however to do something about it. 

“The next time I went to see her she was completely the opposite, smiling, laughing, they would share small intimate touches. It was a few months before they would have been married for eight months, which was quite recently, when in the middle of the night the bell rings. I woke up because I heard a scream so loud I thought my windows might crack. I went to see what was the matter and found a person who resembled my daughter but had a badly beaten face that was swollen and bruised. She said that Samuel beat her to stop her fit. I didn’t ask for more details. I hope her child was created in union of comfort but I can’t be sure.” 

Cal is silent and inarticulate, after he has learned more about a woman who has changed his life in just a few short meetings. The words came from their own will, “Ruth, I can’t promise that I won’t hurt your daughter’s feelings. I will promise you and I already mentioned to her in regards to the child. You have my word as a gentleman which may not mean much to you. More importantly you have my word as a person whose life your daughter has altered. 

“She has made a lasting impression so significant that my greatest wish is to marry her. I won’t ever lay a hand on her or strike her in anger. I will also not strike the child she carries or any future children we have together. I am a man who can hold his liquor. I will decide for myself, maybe with her council, what a set amount is. I know this is different than what our society demands. I want your daughter to be comfortable in my presence. However long that might take.“ 

“I don’t think she has a problem being comfortable with you Cal. I think your father was the problem.” 

“My father?” 

“Yes, it was the way he looked at Rose. I believe your father was there on those nights I told you about. Even though I wasn’t present doesn’t imply I was not listening. I heard the name Hockley quite a few times.” 

Cal is bewildered. His perspective of his father is changing. ‘How could I have admired such a person?’ Then he hears his father’s voice in his head, ‘ _ Tales she is telling, old wives tales. Never listen to women, they only lead you astray _ .’ 

Cal thinks back to dinner and when Elizabeth first tensed especially near the end. He does not have to think of the answer for long. He does not have to believe his father. He does not have to believe Ruth. He needs to believe Elizabeth. 

Later on, as time passes, he will learn that Elizabeth’s body speaks in whispers. Silas will teach him what to look for. 

It is the most valuable lesson his father taught him. If it is the only thing that he has learned from his father so far and it will help with his union with Elizabeth, then so be it, “ _ When you want something Caledon, want it with everything you have. Do not let go of the vision that you create in your mind .  _ _For the might of man is his mind and his heart_.”

“Ruth I have a question for you?” 

“Of course,” she says. 

“When I first met Elizabeth she did not speak highly of you. She spoke as if you despised her. It doesn’t seem that way now. What changed?” 

“I never despised her. I am ashamed that’s what she felt. Whenever I looked at her I saw her father and how much of a failure I was as her mother. What changed? Well you must know the answer to that Cal.” He looks at her with a questioning gaze. “Her, and I suppose, your unborn child. I saw her for the woman she is.” 

Just as Ruth said this Rose comes down dressed in a purple silk and gold beaded robe. The hem of her white lace frock nearly covers her feet, “B’s out of the bath mother and sipping tea. I thought I would send for you”. 

“Thank you Rose but we aren’t the only people in your sister’s life now. You have a busy day tomorrow. You must get to bed.” 

“Oh, and Caledon, I expect the both of you to be adults,” Ruth tells him as she gets up regally from the red velvet chair in the parlour. 

He inclines his slicked back head of hair, “Of course Ruth, good night.” 

“Good night.” 

“Good night Rose.” 

“Good night Cal.” 

He makes his way to Elizabeth’s room. When he arrives at her open door he sees her beautiful long hair hanging down, veiling her face from him as she pets Silas. There is a delicate floral porcelain tea cup in her free hand. He does not want to interrupt their serene moment. 

Silas notices him and wags his tail lightly. 

He knocks softly on the door. Her eyes are puffy and red but he does not mind, surprisingly. 

“I thought you left,” she says in a near whisper. “Oh no, you are leaving us now,” she concludes.

“Why would I come back just to leave again?” he asks her tenderly. 

“It is difficult to know sometimes why people do what they do.” 

“I came back to tell you that I am not abandoning you. Not at a time when you most need me. May I sit?” he motions towards her bed. 

Elizabeth silently nods, not moving on the big firm, plush, linen covered mattress with ample space. 

‘I like being close to him,’ she thinks as she sees him reach for her clasped hands. She is tentative to welcome his touch. He is unusually patient with her. When he has her hands enveloped in his, it is these words that have her heart breaking and singing all at once. “Your mother told me.” 

Shame fills her as he continues.

“All of the men in your life have mistreated you. Once they may have learned to treat you well, they disappeared. I am here before you to tell you that I am not going to mistreat you. You will want for nothing. However, something tells me you need my presence more than what I can give materially. Put simply I will be in your life as intimately as you want and need. I will be the best father I can muster at the time. I just want to be in your life Elizabeth. Open your heart to me, when you are ready of course. I know trusting me will not come easy.”

“I do trust you. After everything my mother told you, you are still here. My heart is open to you. I knew it was open to you when I met you in the woods and when Silas ran to you. He is the best people expert I know.” She gives him a tired smile and big yawn. 

“Come, lay down. I will stay with you until you fall asleep,” Cal tells her in a tender whisper. 

“Where will you sleep?” Elizabeth asks, sleepily curious. 

He looks around the room and sees a round wooden table by a large deep green velvet curtain with silver tassels and two ornate wooden carved chairs. There is a comfortable dark brown velvet chair by the fireplace with wooden claw feet ‘It looks comfortable enough’. 

“The chair in the corner looks comfortable.” 

“No, you will have a neck ache in the morning. You can sleep next to me. I am too tired for any activity other than sleeping,” she tells him as she reaches on the other side of the bed to turn her bedside lamp off. 

“If you are comfortable with this arrangement, very well then.” 

“Come to me Cal,” she says playfully, as she reclines herself against her plush pillows. Her hands reaching for him, her fingers are grasping air as they yearn for his touch, as if they are bean stalks climbing to the sky. Coyly she tells him, “It’s not as if you can deflower me or get me ripe with child. That already happened and is happening,” they both chuckle at her comment. 

He decides to play along, “What about if I wanted to kiss you?” 

“That may not be such a bad thing. Even though I am very tired, I won’t say no.” It is in this maiden’s room, warm in her bed surrounded by her favourite companion, that an electrifying kiss is shared by firelight. The room is cloaked in the movement of flames as if in a giant shadow puppet play. 


	13. A Blissful Morning

Elizabeth wakes up from the most blissful sleep she can remember. She iscomfortable and warm. There is a hand intertwined with hers...his hand. When she opens her eyes, brown eyes are watching her, they are shining with what she thinks is love, warmth, and mirth. 

Cal was raised to wake up with the rising sun. It is his first time being in a bed with a woman. He thinks, ‘This is the reason why men were created.’ To him Elizabeth is fascinating to watch when she is sleeping. The terror and pain that he saw yesterday evening is gone. She snuffles, chuckles, and smiles in her sleep. 

Her eyes slowly open. ‘Or maybe it just seems slow to me. Her eyes...Oh how I am enamoured with her eyes.’ No one in his family has blue eyes, ‘It is like looking into the ocean’s light.’ 

Then there is her intoxicating scent. ‘That aroma what is that aroma?’ He starts to sniff everywhere where he thinks a woman would put perfume. Her wrists, her neck, her hair. ‘It is her hair.’ All the while his actions are making her giggle. 

“What is the sweet aroma in your hair?” He asks, his voice sounding deeper and gravelly with sleep.

“Sweet pea,” is Elizabeth’s melodic reply or at least to his ears it is. “I thought it would be calming after last night and it was. I have never been more blissful,” she tells him, as she stretches. As soon as she says the word, ‘ Blissful ’ though, her stomach heaves. 

He wants to ask her more but then he sees her tense and hastily desert the warm covers of the bed, in exchange for the cold tile floors of the lavatory floor.

He was going to get up to see if she needed his assistance however his arousal hinders his actions. The sound of her distress relieves his pressing condition, allowing him to go to her.

He has never been around a woman who is vomiting before, ‘What to do, what to do, what to do?’ he asks himself, as he quietly assesses the situation with furrowed brows. He sees her hair hanging down and holds it for her. Instinctively he starts to rub her back, his hand moving in soft calming circles, as if he is brushing a horse. After what seems like a long while the retching sounds stop. He notices her washing basin* in the corner. He washes his hands under the warm running water before bringing Elizabeth some water from her rosewood and marble washstand**.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth says, gratefully and gracefully as she internally winces at the the dryness of her voice. Feeling both embarrassed and undignified, she shields her red face behind her long shining dark locks. “You didn’t need to come to me,” she tells Cal, as she kneels on the floor with her hand rhythmically caressing her stomach. 

“I didn’t need to, but I wanted...I wanted to. It may seem that you are alone. As I said last night I am here whenever and however you need me,” he tells her, with gentle tenderness. 

“The words thank you don’t seem quite enough in this moment,” Elizabeth says, as she thinks, ‘What am I supposed to tell him? Thank you for being here, thank you for staying, thank you for choosing me. It feels arbitrarily known yet left unsaid.’ 

“Come sweet pea, let’s get you back to bed,” Cal tells her, as he playfully carries her back to the bed. Elizabeth is laughing lightly when she coyly asks, “Sweet pea?” 

Cal’s cheeks tint red, “I-I-I,” he stutters. 

‘What effect is she having on me?’ he thinks, as he lays her on the bed and clears his throat. 

Elizabeth is becoming acquainted with a dormant part of herself, a primal part. She has a way of controlling him. It can awaken a monster of power and jealousy. She can only call upon this power during light playful mornings such as this.She needs to contemplate on her epiphany of being a woman and the power she has later. ‘Perhaps Rose can discuss this with me. She always has strong thoughts on matters such as this.’ All she can do is use this new found power for love. 

As Cal lays Elizabeth gently on the bed he sees her eyebrows are furrowed and she has a pensive gaze, ‘as if she is on a current of thought coming to a confluence’. Absently his fingers start to draw invisible circles on her knees. His crawling feelers start on the fabric of her white lace night frock, as if on their own accord they move the garment so it is skin to skin contact. 

Elizabeth is pulled from her musings of feminine power by the lightest sensation tickling her knees. She looks down to see Cal kneeling down and watching her as his fingers draw hypnotic circles in a soothing rhythm on the soft skin on the top of her knees. His lips are slightly parted showing just the tip of his front teeth.He is kneeling at the perfect height for her to brush her fingers through his sleep tussled hair. Some of the strands are greasy from yesterday evening’s wax that he had used. ‘Oh how I love his hair, especially the cow licks. I love touching his hair, even if it is not like strands of silk right now.’ 

In this moment of affection and quiet intimacy two people are coming together and slowly exploring each other in body, mind, and spirit. Elizabeth is experiencing an occasion of pure bliss. Cal embraces her as he rests his head on her abdomen. Elizabeth continues to stroke his dark brown almost black strands as she gives his scalp and neck a light massage. These two people are transcending time and place by just being in this blissful present. 

Cal moves and sits on her left*,** ‘Might as well practice this now,’ he thinks as he composes himself and says, “I noticed that Rose and Alice called you B.” 

Elizabeth smiles softly and takes his large, smooth, yet strong hand in hers. ‘Not having physical contact with him seems unthinkable.’ There is an ignited stream of electricity between them. “When Rose was little Elizabeth was too long of a word for her to pronounce. She could only say B or sissy. Through all of these years it has just endured,” Elizabeth explains kindly.

“And Alice?” Cal asks curiously. 

“Much the same, without the sissy part. She most likely heard Rose say it to me and liked the way it sounded. It just became normal. Why do you ask?” 

“I want to call you something only I can say between us. Something personal, a way to call you mine.” 

Elizabeth lightly ponders on his words, not yet realizing that he can be quite possessive. She is in too blissful a state to realize the gravity of his words. “I think that you did find your unique expression this very morning darling, not too long ago actually, and you said it yourself.” 

He thinks about the easy flowing conversation they had this morning and had a dawning of realization that mirrors the soft light entering the bedroom.He knows what she is alluding and referring to, “Sweet pea,” he says in a voice that is above a whisper, “Sweet pea,” he repeats the words reverently as if somehow repeating it seals it in fate. ‘It is utterly perfect,’ he thinks. 

They seal his personal endearment with a kiss and Elizabeth whispers, “I am yours, only yours.” Cal’s heart is alight. He has never experienced a time of such bliss as this morning. 

Eventually a mundane knock interrupts their intimate embrace. Elizabeth startles in his arms. “Darling go to the chair in the corner.” she orders lightly, and watches him comply, still wearing his black tuxedo pants from last night. His jacket, bow tie and waist coat are hanging on the back of the claw footed chair. His white tuxedo shirt is slightly unbuttoned but does not warrant a second glance. His suspenders are attractively hanging low. He sits tall and proper, the fingers of his left hand underneath his chin, his elbow vertical on the armrest. His right arm is draped with dignity across the back of the brown velvet chair. 

Elizabeth has never seen such an erotic site, ‘If only I could...no. Is he sitting like that and looking at me like that on purpose? As if he knows how attractive he is and the effect he is having on me. Oh the heat that courses through me is aflame.’ 

She fears, yet revels in the effect he has on her. Her loins are aching for him. She squirms discreetly to give herself some relief. Her voice is unusually different, higher, “Come,” she clears her throat, “Ahem...come in.” 

“Miss Elizabeth, your mother wanted me to bring you up breakfast in bed...oh good morning good sir,” Trudy says, not noticing at first that Cal is sitting in the corner by the cold fireplace. “I trust that you enjoyed your stay?” 

“Yes,” he says shortly. He knows that he has to leave soon. He starts to put his coat on. His shoes are on the other side of the bed beyond the maid’s view. “Well, it’s time for me to bid you my leave Elizabeth. Until this afternoon.” 

Trudy is slowly making her way to the door. 

“Trudy,” Elizabeth calls. “Before our guest leaves, could you bring him some food for breakfast. I don’t want him to leave with an empty stomach.” 

With a silent bow Trudy leaves to get Cal some breakfast. 

“Please, that’s not necessary,” he tries to circumvent politely. 

“I insist. May I please have the honour to eat breakfast with you?” Elizabeth asks coquettishly. 

It was only a few minutes later that Trudy comes back with food on a tray for Cal. 

“Thank you Trudy,” Elizabeth tells her graciously. 

Trudy departs the room once more leaving the new couple to eat their breakfast in relative silence. Elizabeth takes the silver lid off the floral embellished silver tray to find one of her favourite meals. She was not aware of her hunger or Cal’s critical stare either.

“Is that oatmeal?” he asks with disgust. 

“Yes, with almonds, currants, and honey mixed in.” 

“And you like oatmeal?” he questions, as he attempts to disguise his distaste.

“If I did not like or enjoy oatmeal then I would not request to have it for breakfast,” Elizabeth replies, evenly and lightly, oblivious to the red hot storm raging in the man across her. 

On a separate floral porcelain plate is a slice of brown bread, jam, and tea.

“Do you dislike oatmeal?” Elizabeth asks, as she dips her silver spoon in the steaming pile of textured mush. 

“Of course, as should you. It’s plebeian,” Cal replies defiantly. 

“You don’t have a right to tell me what I can and can’t like!” Elizabeth replies just as passionately.

“Of course, I can. I am your fiancé!” he exclaims. ‘Does his woman forget that overnight?’ he thinks bitterly. 

“For your information I happen to like some kinds of plebeian food such as oatmeal. It doesn’t mean I am one,” Elizabeth defends primly. 

Cal is very close to walking out of the room. His feet are twitching to the tune of a hasty escape. A part of him wants to call off the engagement in the heat of anger. 

Elizabeth daringly reaches for his hand, “Darling, perhaps you should see what you have been served.” 

Looking at the imposing tray before him he vows, ‘If it is oatmeal I am going to strut out of here with my head held high. I am a man of Best Society and have too much class to be in a union with a woman who likes oatmeal.’ When he lifts the lid he sees a glass of orange juice, a slice of brown bread, and a plate of baked eggs with what looks to be chopped liver on top with radishes and fried potatoes. ‘This meal looks absolutely delectable.’ he admits while trying to ignore the sounds of his concurring stomach. 

He takes a refined bite so he can taste all the flavours at once, rich, spicy, and salty. ‘Absolutely delectable,’ he thinks. ‘It is as delicious as it looks.’ His internal hums of appreciation are interrupted by the sound of Elizabeth delicately clearing her throat, “Ahem.” She makes eye contact. Her blue eyes have a steel hue to them. A hard gaze. Eyes that remind him of the ocean light not an hour ago now remind him of fresh pressed steel ready for shipment.

“I am satisfied that you seem to be enjoying your breakfast. Are enjoying your breakfast, darling?” 

“Yes, it’s very delicious,”he replies nonchalantly ignoring her unnerving gaze. 

“I don’t appreciate you yelling at me. I realize that you were probably hungry.” shesays, more to herself then to him, as if she is convincing herself. “The reason that I eat such a plebeian meal in the morning, if you must know, is because, as of right now, my stomach will not tolerate greasy foods, or too heavy meals in the morning.” she tells him, as she evades his gaze and removes her hand. 

Elizabeth returns to eating her oatmeal. ‘What was once a welcome nourishment to start the day has now become just a mechanical task,’ she thinks, with an internal sigh. 

Cal is ashamed as he plays his words back in his head. He realizes that his temper got the best of him. ‘We are different people, of course we are going to like different things. No one eats oatmeal more gracefully than she does.’ He wipes his mouth with his indigo blue cotton serviette, and extending an open palm to her, his fingers tickle hers. 

Elizabeth has her hand flat on the table, resisting the urge to drum her fingers on the grey embroidered linen tablecloth. She feels a slight tickle on the underside of her palm. To her discontent her hand welcomes the touch. A part of her wants to pull away but he maintains his gentle hold. She feels the beaming warmth from his eyes. She is angered at herself for being submissive to him. 

Cal can clearly see that her glare is still hard and there is also some shininess in her eyes. His temper had once more got the best of him. “I apologize. I am quick to anger. You must know that about me. I know it’s no excuse, but it is a part of my personality. I responded harshly and inappropriately. I see the error of my ways. I am in no position to tell you what your body needs, especially at this time.” 

“Or anytime,” Elizabeth adds quietly, silently disgruntled at herself. 

He understands her meaning, “Or anytime,” he concedes. 

‘This woman challenges me,’ he thinks as he reflects on his childhood. ‘I was raised to know and was told that women were to be controlled. Elizabeth is quite different. No matter how hard I try, a part of me does not want to control her. I want her to live in my life not just be in it.’ 

Once they are finished breakfast he addresses a question that has beenlingering on his mind. He takes a deep breath and settles himself as someone from long ago had told him to do when his temper would rear like a wild stallion. “I noticed that you treat your maids differently.” 

Elizabeth pulls her gaze away from the panelled landscape of light raindrops dripping down the window pane. “How so?” she asks dreamily, as if a part of her is still looking at the trickling patterns of drops. 

“Well for one, you thank them.” 

She is clearly looking at him now when she asks, “You don’t?” 

“No.” 

“Mother only thanks them when we have guests. Rose sometimes does.” 

“Why?” he asks with piqued curiosity. 

“Why what?” 

“Do you thank them?” 

“Why don’t you thank them?” 

‘Is this some sort of game they are playing, one that only she knows the rules for?’ he wonders. ‘Ask a question with a question.’ 

“Because they are doing their duty. They will still do their duty for as long as they are employed,” he replies, concisely and accurately with his arms crossed, giving himself a nod of achievement. 

“That’s one way of seeing it,” Elizabeth tells him mysteriously. “I see it differently. They are hired to take care of us. I appreciate their help so I thank them. The other reason, well, it’s a little more sinister.” 

Now his curiosity is very piqued. ‘She has that playful lilt in her voice.’ 

“They are hired to take care of us and assist us with our affairs. They feed us and serve us. If we are rude and untoward to them perhaps they will do something to us. Like put insects in our sheets, poison our food, or put some chemical in the bath that changes our skin or hair to a different colour forever. That’s the other reason I thank them, because they are people and when warranted or not, people will do something out of spite or just to harm. I say thank you to the people who serve me so they know I appreciate their help. In a way they have more power than we do.” 

He thinks seriously upon her words and decides that perhaps they have some merit. He gives her a charming smile and they return to their familiar, somewhat strange, but somehow comfortable silence. 

Until Cal breaks it once more to say, “Your servant called you Miss Elizabeth.” 

Elizabeth smiles with her mouth full, “Heard that did you,” she says, as she finishes chewing a piece of sweet brown bread. “Trudy is twenty five. When my father...hurt me when I was little or when I would hurt myself from a clumsy accident, Trudy and her mother would help heal me. Her mother died two years ago of consumption. We have been through too much together for her to be someone who just serves me. That’s why I suggested that she call me Elizabeth. But she insisted on the Miss, so we compromised. It’s also a secret. My mother doesn’t know. I think she would have my head.” 

‘How could someone who has been through so much pain have such compassion,’ Cal ponders with deep admiration for Elizabeth. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” he tells her in a friendly mischievous tone. 

Their presently peaceful breakfast is interrupted by a knock on the door frame revealing the timid silhouette of Trudy. Elizabeth permits her entrance by calling, “Come in.” 

“Are the both of you finished?” Trudy asks quietly. 

“Yes, Trudy. Thank you. It was very delicious.” Elizabeth tells her with genuine gratitude and praise. 

After Trudy leaves, burdened by the empty and dirty dishes, Elizabeth and Cal’s honest conversation recommences. “I realize I do things differently. I don’t expect you to change your ways. All I ask is that you don’t expect me to change for you, because I won’t,” Elizabeth tells him, with dignified certainty. She is proud of herself for staying true to her philosophy and more importantly herself. 

Cal knows this is his moment of truth. He has to tell her, “There’s something I must confess to you...what you just said. I was raised to find a wife who I can control, as if she was a precious diamond I needed to shine. You Elizabeth, you already shine. I have changed by being in your presence, if only a few times. Now I must go. The morning is waning and already we are to meet in the afternoon. Until then sweet pea.” 

He hastily departs with his mind in a battle with itself about not being completely honest. Remnants of his spicy scent linger in the wake of his breeze as he walks past her, leaving Elizabeth spellbound on the chair with captivating tingles from a kiss to the back of her hand. 

“Darling, wait!” Elizabeth calls, as she rushes to meet him. He is just stepping onto the first step of the steep wooden purple carpeted stairs. “Let me escort you to the front door at least. I may be a nonconformist, however, I do know how to be a lady. I will get Trudy to call the carriage.” 

“You aren’t dressed.”

“I will put on a robe. I am in my house after all. Sometimes I walk around nude.” 

Cal’s cheeks colour at the mere thought. 

“I believe in truth, beauty, freedom, and love darling,” Elizabeth states. 

“What does your mother do when you walk around nude?“ Cal asks uncertain about the answer. 

“She has a nose bleed,” Elizabeth says absently, as she continues to walk down the steps. 

To Cal it looks like she is prancing. ‘Maybe I should ask Rose more about her sister.’ 

Rose is in the library surrounded by art, Freud, and natural history books. Right now she is learning about ice fishing. ‘It seems quite strange to lie on the cold ice for hours waiting for a fish. “There must be a river that does not freeze,” she ponders aloud as she hears Elizabeth’s voice carry through the door, ‘It sounds like she is talking to someone.’ 

Rose gets up from her once comfortable seated position, shaking out a leg cramp as she goes to investigate who Elizabeth could be talking to. She prys the heavy wooden doors of the library open. She does not see anyone outside in the hallway. ‘They must be on the stairs,’ she determines. Withholding a giggle she crawls on her hands and knees to look between the wooden spindle railings of the upper floor overlooking the stairs.

‘There is B talking with Cal about walking nude around the house.’ Rose chuckles to herself as she thinks of the fond summer memories. ‘It is only in the summer when the pool in the yard is available and we are too wet to put our dresses back on. “ _It seems strange to wear a bathing-suit in the house,” B would say, before she would further defend us by stating, “We don’t need a bathing-suit when we have a bath._ ” and the both of us would ran off unattired leaving mother and the maids bewildered as they gazed at the wet trail of rebellious footprints behind us.’ 

Rose returns to her readings about ice fishing, shaking her head at their antics and her sister, the mischievous catalyst, ‘Most of the time’. 

Outside in the front of the house there is a carriage waiting with two large bay horses. Elizabeth is hiding behind the front door. Her hands clasped behind her back, she is lightly swaying as Cal tells her tenderly, “Until later sweet pea.” She silently nods, his voice affecting her physically, inhibiting her ability to speak. 

He squeezes her hand and walks to the carriage making his quiet departure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * A washbasin is a different from a sink because a sink is usually used for washing dishes or other kinds of washing. A washing basin is specifically for washing the hands and/or face. 
> 
> ** A washstand is a separate piece of furniture that is usually made of wood and has a porcelain sink. In Elizabeth’s case her washing basin is made out of rosewood while the pitcher and basin are made out of marble. 
> 
> *** When Cal went to go and sit on Elizabeth’s left he was referring to a Best Society rule that was mostly practiced in Europe. In America it was encouraged. A woman had to walk, stand, or sit on a man’s right otherwise she would not be considered a woman. 
> 
> In the Titanic film you can see this practiced when Rose makes her entrance from the automobile she was sitting on Cal’s right which makes sense because they were in Southampton which is in Europe. On the ship however, she was not sitting on Cal’s right. In the dinner scene they did not practice this rule. Ruth was on Cal’s right while Rose was sitting on Mr. Andrews’ left. In the hymn scene she was on Cal’s right. 
> 
> Perhaps the creators did not have Rose on Cal’s right in the dinner scene to discreetly show Rose’s feelings for Jack and her separation from Best Society or maybe they chose to ignore this ridiculous rule because they were in neither America or Europe, they were simply propelling on a great blue divide. This is merely a postulation of course. What do you think?
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter.  
> I know I enjoyed writing it.  
> Once again thank you for joining me on this voyage, I honour each and everyone one of you who is on this voyage with me. May we travel vast and far together as words transport us into far off realms. 
> 
> All The Best, 
> 
> Mystic-of-the-West


	14. A Tempestuous Time Around Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone, 
> 
> Knowing that you are on this heartfelt voyage is very encouraging for me to share these words, that yearn to be shared.  
> I hope that you enjoy this very long chapter.  
> Historical notes are on the bottom as well. 
> 
> May my best shine through.
> 
> Until next time, 
> 
> Mystic of the West

After Elizabeth sees Cal off she has to be as stealthy as possible journeying back to her room, in case her mother is lurking around. She carefully and slowly makes her way up the stairs, not wanting a step to squeak. 

Finally making it to her room without being noticed, or so she thinks, Elizabeth starts to get ready for the day. She rings the bell for Trudy to come and assist her in getting dressed. 

She prepares herself a bath, releasing a satisfied sigh as she reclines into the warm and soothing water. Cradled by the salty and herbed water, Elizabeth feels lulled and renewed. She rubs her stomach tenderly, nurturing the life growing within.

The warm water with dried chamomile and sea salt begins to cool. Elizabeth closes her eyes for a moment. Someone quietly walks in. Elizabeth is in a reverie and does not seem to notice the intrusion. A hand comes to touch her shoulder, and before the touch can be felt Elizabeth says, “I was appreciating the quiet,” her light voice echoing off the tiled walls. 

“Yes, well the afternoon is almost upon us my child.” 

“Mother? I sent for Trudy.”

“I wanted to dress you myself.” 

“I am not a doll,” Elizabeth states, as she confronts one of her mother’s dark red, expressive raised eyebrows. Elizabeth surrenders to the strict stare with a defeated sigh, “Very well.”

Elizabeth knows it is futile arguing with her mother. ‘If mother was a man she would make a most excellent lawyer.’

“Come. I think I have had the perfect day dress for this occasion made for you. I wanted to see what you thought,” Ruth happily confides. 

Elizabeth knows that her mother wants to talk to her about something else. ‘Mother only comes to dress Rose and I when she needs to discuss something in private, away from potentially listening ears.’

“You are positively glowing.” 

“Thank you mother.” Elizabeth knows it is unwise to say more when her mother is doting on her in such a way. 

“I have a lot to make up for with you my love. Before you know it you will be married off again. Rose will be gone to finishing school for her last year. Soon she too will find a husband. I will be an old spinster in the house.” 

“Mother, you will never be a spinster - you have children who are grown. If a spinster had children they would most likely be born out of wedlock. I want to spend as much time together as we can as well. I need to get to know my mother anew, now that I am going to be one.” 

Ruth starts to brush Elizabeth’s long locks and is reminded of her late husband’s hair. ‘Dark wavy brown curls with a healthy shine, yet now that I really see it, there is a slight red and gold colouring in Elizabeth’s. The only difference is in the length. His was short of course. Her hair is descending down to her hips,’ Ruth shakes herself from these empty thoughts. She leads her daughter to her bed where her new dress lies. “Here is your day dress for to-day. What do you think?” 

Elizabeth takes in the finely coloured garments spread out over the bed. A skirt of pinstriped indigo wool with matching jacket. A high necked, white silk blouse with pearl buttons. An indigo velvet hat topped with white silk flowers and an indigo satin bow. And there are even indigo coloured fine leather boots that have white spiral detailing. The silk gloves are indigo coloured as well, and finished with pearl buttons. 

“Mother this is marvellous! Thank you for thinking of me. This striking indigo colour will suit this afternoon’s excursion together perfectly.”

“I thought so too. I had Annette make this ensemble for you, and after seeing you and Cal together I knew that you would need something like this before long.” 

Elizabeth gives her mother a grateful hug. She puts on her satien-gourge and her bust support, beaming at herself in the mirror as she steps into the skirt that her mother is holding beneath her. She can smell her mother’s floral perfume as she buttons her blouse. It is a little tight around her bust, ‘but not unbearably comfortable,’ she thinks. 

“Let’s take a look at you. You will be quite the spectacle around town to-day,” Ruth says, as she takes a few steps back and eyes Elizabeth critically. 

“Thank you for this gesture mother. I am very grateful.” 

Ruth smiles with approval. “There is afternoon tea waiting for us in the parlour. Your sister should be down shortly.” 

Rose comes gliding into the parlour wearing a light grey suit similar to Elizabeth’s in style. Elizabeth notices the light embroidery of purple flowers on the skirt and the contrasting white flowers on the purple hat. Her wool gloves with amethyst buttons and fine leather boots match the colour of her light grey suit. Elizabeth thinks, ‘She looks stunning...’ Her mother’s quiet, severe voice interrupts her thoughts, “I wanted us to have a chat before Cal comes.”

Silas is lying sleepily by the fire. Elizabeth gazes lovingly at him, ‘Mother is finally warming up to him. Things do change,’ she muses. 

“What places would you like to visit in the city?” Ruth asks.

Rose’s melodic voice calls Elizabeth back to the room. “I need to go to the shoe shop.”

“I would like to go to the children’s store,” Elizabeth states. 

“You need to be very careful about that one Elizabeth, because Cal will be with you and people may draw conclusions,” Ruth tells her sternly. 

“I know. I have a plan.” 

‘Of course she has a plan,’ Rose thinks admirably. 

She hears Elizabeth say, “I am not showing yet. I can go by myself or Rose can come with me. We can pretend we are looking for someone else. I don’t plan to buy anything. I would like to knit and sew some baby items.” Elizabeth adds, “I would also like to go to Fairmount Park.”*

“I thought so,” Ruth says knowingly. “There will be quite a lot of gossip at the park. You must be careful. As we discussed last night you both must pretend that Cal is engaged to Rose. Rose you will walk beside him holding his arm. Elizabeth will walk behind as if your chaperone...understood?”

“Yes mother,” they both say in unison. 

Silence descends in the parlour. The three women sip their tea and nibble on the light sandwiches and scones until Ruth speaks, “There is another matter concerning you Elizabeth.” 

“You have my attention mother,” Elizabeth tells her. 

“For the birth of the child, do you want a doctor or a midwife?” 

“Don’t I have time to decide this?” 

“If you want a midwife we need to look and interview.” 

“How did you know I was thinking about a midwife?” 

“Because my dear, you are a non conformist,” Ruth tells her fondly. 

Elizabeth smiles into her tea cup. 

“I will send for midwives,” Ruth says with finality. 

“How will you make the announcement and send for them without making it public?” Rose asks. 

“We have maids don’t we? If anybody asks, I will say, that one of the maids is with child and wants to rear it. It would be quite cruel for me to dismiss her at this time. So we are hiring a midwife, since a doctor will be above her needs,” Ruth states cunningly. 

Sometimes her mother reminds Elizabeth of a rat. With her pointed nose and her scheming abilities, ‘A very clever curly red haired rat.’ She withholds a giggle as she sips her tea and listens to Rose say, “You really do have everything all figured out don’t you mother,” shaking her head in amazement at her mother’s conniving ability. 

“Everything except finding you a husband,” Ruth quips grudgingly. 

“Mother we talked about this...I am not ready to marry.” 

“No woman is ever ready to marry Rose.” 

“Elizabeth is ready!” Rose states passionately. 

“In my defence I was already married. I have a reason to marry now. I am blessed that he is an admirable gentleman,” Elizabeth says, with blushing cheeks. 

As if he heard her compliment the doorbell rings to announce that there is a visitor. 

“Mr. Caledon Hockley has arrived,” Trudy announces.

“Thank you Trudy. Please clean up our tea,” Ruth directs. “Cal, thank you for coming. I trust that the carriage ride was quite enjoyable.” 

“Thank you for having me. The seats were comfortable and there were very few bumps,” he replies cordially. 

“Good to hear. Edward is a very good driver. The girls are ready. We discussed the etiquette that has to be followed,” she says, the last four words with more emphasis and looks at Elizabeth intently. Elizabeth bows her head in acceptance under her mother’s scrutiny as she tells herself, ‘Nothing can go wrong. To-day is a day of fine balancing. My child’s life depends on it.’ 

“Your daughters look absolutely ravishing,” Cal says, as he kisses Rose on the back of her gloved hand. She bows and says, “How do you do.” He does the same with Elizabeth but his touch lingers for a second longer. He has a knowing look glinting mischievously in his eyes. 

“Rose shall we?” He asks as he offers her his arm. ‘No time like the present,’ she thinks as she tells her mother, “We should be home in time for supper,” and kisses her lightly on the cheek. 

The two maidens and the gentleman enter the carriage and their outing begins.

The carriage ride is filled with small talk and some uncomfortable silence. Elizabeth spends most of her time looking out the window, while Rose quietly sits and shares hidden glances at Cal who is sitting across from her. 

The carriage stops right in front of the shoe store. Cal, the first to depart, takes Rose’s hand to assist her out, before helping Elizabeth. “Ready to go?” he asks Rose. 

Rose says nothing but haughtily starts to walk to the shoe shop with Cal smirking at her side. 

Elizabeth keeps a respectful distance as chaperone, not too close that the couple has no privacy, but not too far that she can no longer maintain a visual of them. ‘This feels very old fashioned’ she thinks as she enters the store and is distracted from her useless thought by all of the items to look at. 

Rose feels strange shopping beside a man. A part of her is relaxed though because she knows he has no interest in her, ‘It’s fun to fool society’ she thinks. 

One of the shop’s assistant who has her blond hair pinned up with a black bow keeps stealing glances towards Cal. Elizabeth finds this somewhat amusing. 

“May I help you?” another assistant with a kind smile asks. 

“I am already being helped,” Rose replies politely. 

Elizabeth steps in, “I am looking for shoes.” 

Rose internally rolls her eyes at her sister’s obvious statement. 

She hears the beaming assistant reply, “You have come to the right place.” 

‘Obviously they had. This does not look like a bookstore,’ Rose thinks bitingly. She givesCal a coy smile as she thinks, ‘He does not know what he is getting himself into this afternoon.’ 

“Is there a certain colour or style you are interested in?” The assistant with the kind smile asks Elizabeth. 

“A spring style,” she replies. 

“We have this pair...”

“Here you are miss,” the assistant with the bow in her hair says to Rose, as she holds a a brown shoebox in her hand with teal coloured paper.** 

Inside the box there is a pair of turquoise coloured shoes with a very intricate pattern of what looks like a music sheet. ‘They are very artful. I am certain I have a dress...yes I do, a white dress with a satin bow of the same light turquoise. These will be perfect.’ 

“My feet are very comfortable,” she says, giving the assistant with the black bow a bright smile. 

“What do you think, Cal?” Rose asks modestly. 

“You look beautiful wearing them. You look radiant in everything you wear,” he tells herwith a charming smile. 

She cannot contain her blush. ‘No man has ever’...she looks over at Elizabeth who seems to be having difficulty hiding her amusement if her hands behind her back are any indication.

“What do you think B?” Rose asks curiously. 

“Let me see them closer. They’re exquisite, of that there is no doubt.” 

“I think they would look better on you,” Rose tells her honestly. 

“You have the white dress with the matching satin bow,” Elizabeth tells her. 

“Try them on. If you don’t like them, no harm done. If you do, then you can get them.” 

“Alright. I will humour you. May I please try these on in a size seven and a half?” Elizabeth asks the assistant. 

“Of course.” 

While she is waiting, Elizabeth wanders around the shop looking at more shoes. ‘I have so many already. My wardrobe is full,’ she thinks, as she looks at the sales shelf and sees a very nice pair of brown plain leather boots. 

Even though she comes from a wealthy family she is careful about spending money. 

When the kind eyed woman comes back with what Elizabeth fondly calls the orchestra shoe she asks, “May I please try these on as well in the same size?”

“Of course.” 

Rose sees Elizabeth trying on the anticipated shoe. ‘They suit her. They are whimsical,’ she thinks, as she smiles at herself, pulling Cal gracefully along by his arm to see Elizabeth in the shoes. “Cal what do you think?” Rose prods. 

“Very whimsical,” he replies. 

The assistant smiles kindly at them when she sees them approaching as she carries a large shoebox, “They are made in Italy. Here you go miss,” she says, as she hands the brown boots to Elizabeth and helps her to put them on after taking off the orchestra shoes.

‘They are an excellent fit. I like them because they do not have much of a heel. They have a wider sole as well.’ She knows they will be good when she becomes heavier with child. She gets nervous butterflies thinking about that. She silently quells and composes herself before saying, “Thank you, they both fit perfectly. I should like to buy both pairs.” 

“They’re quite unusual. It’s not very often a boot is designed with a low heel. This style wasn’t very popular. I also have a ballet style slipper if you are interested.” 

“Please,” Elizabeth says gracefully. The assistant smiles kindly at this polite customer and brings Elizabeth some shoes that look like very detailed ballet slippers. 

The soles are made of wood and the rest of the shoe looks to be made out of silk. They each have different styles of buckles. The yellow pair has a gold sun brooch with pearls in the middle while the white pair has a blue ribbon. And the light pink pair has a matching silk pink flower. 

“They’re a new design, made in Italy as well. A most excellent addition to spring and summer. They were inspired by wedding slippers.”

Cal silently watches the two sisters shopping. At first it is amusing but then it becomes quite boring. ‘Perhaps I should go to the mens suit store down the street. It is as if I am not here anyway,’ he thinks bitterly and impatiently. 

“Rose what do you think?” Elizabeth asks. 

“They are very practical and fashionable.”

“How much are they?” Elizabeth asks curiously. 

“Three dollars each,” the assistant replies stoically, but her eyes are glittering cordially like amber in light.

“I should like to buy one in each colour in a size seven and a half,” Elizabeth decides. 

“Of course,” says the assistant obediently as she puts the three pairs of shoes in three boxes with matching paper that corresponds to their colours. 

“That will be all,” Rose says primly. 

“Will this be together or separate?” asks the clerk who is wearing brass buttons that clang against the glass whenever she moves her wrist. 

“Together,” Rose replies politely, as she reaches for the one hundred dollar bill in her small grey beaded bag. 

Returning from his impatient daze Cal realizes they are doing the transaction, “I will pay for the shoes Rose, for both of you. Consider it a gift.” 

“The grand total for the 6 pairs of shoes is $17.50,” says the clerk. Cal pays the required amount and the clerk bids him to, “Have an enjoyable rest of the day.” 

“You as well,” Rose quips kindly. 

“That was very kind of you, thank you,” Elizabeth discreetly and softly tells him as Rose is thanking the clerk.

Cal acknowledges Elizabeth with a simple nod and a lift of his black Hamburg hat before he asks, “Now where to?” 

“Do you need to visit any stores?” Rose asks. 

“I do need a new pair of trousers. Perhaps fashionable women like yourselves could be of some assistance,” he tells them playfully as they walk down the street. 

Elizabeth and Rose are walking side by side, while Cal is walking on the side closest to the road.*** 

When they arrive at the gentlemen’s store they are greeted by a man who has a rotund 

belly and a dark moustache, andeyes that are young and youthful. He is wearing a suit very similar to Cal’s plain dark one however it has a light pinstriped pattern of grey. He laughs jovially as he greets one of his best customers, “Good afternoon Caledon.” 

“Leonard.”

“It’s not very often we have women in our shop. Is there anything specific you are looking for?” 

“Trousers.” 

“Follow me.” 

Elizabeth and Rose help Cal find a tan pair of trousers and now find themselves patiently looking at suits. 

“These are made in Paris. They are designed and made with the highest quality wool. I brought them back with me just last week,” Leonard boasts as he displays a grey suit with black plaid and a plain black suit. 

“What about this silver and black one?” Cal asks the women. 

The grey silver colour looks like storm clouds with the sun shining through. The black plaid is very light. ‘The pattern is not obvious,’ Elizabeth thinks. ‘It is very flattering on the hanger. The plain black suit is a classic.’ She touches the lightweight fabric.

“A linen, cotton, and wool blend,” Leonard tells her proudly as if he is showing her a most prized possession. 

“What do you think Rose? As his fiancée you have to make sure he looks his best as well,” Elizabeth states playfully. 

“You should try them both on,” Rose decides. 

In the dressing room he puts the grey one on first. When he looks at himself in the mirror he thinks, ‘It is too light for my skin tone,’ but decides to show the women anyway.

Rose blushes when she sees Cal emerge from the behind the ebony door, ‘What is wrong with me!’ she thinks bitterly. 

Elizabeth looks at Cal critically. He almost squirms under her intense gaze. “What do you think?” she asks. 

“It’s very comfortable. I know the fabric is made for spring because I am quite cool. My only concern is the colour. Do you think it clashes with my skin tone?” 

“I was thinking the same thing,” Elizabeth says, as she turns to Leonard to ask him, “Do you have a hat that could fit with this suit? Perhaps a dark shirt for underneath as well. Let’s go with a nice black with light fabric. Yes, that’s it,” she mumbles to herself.

“Of course miss,” Leonard tells her after he brings a black Hamburg hat that has a silk grey bow and a light plaid pattern. 

“Thank you. Perhaps a black waistcoat as well,” Elizabeth adds. 

“From England or Paris?” Leonard asks. 

“Paris,” Elizabeth confirms without much thought. 

Rose is stunned into silence as she observes her fashionable sister. ‘B is a very fashionable woman. Seeing her in a men’s tailor shop is different. She is an artist and Cal is her inspiration. It is mesmerizing watching the both of them together.’

“What do you think?” Elizabeth asks Cal, once he dons the whole ensemble, complete with a black waistcoat that has onyx studded silver buttons, over the black shirt and grey suspenders underneath. “I never would have thought to try this on myself. I quite like it.” 

“Rose,” he asks kindly, “What do you think?” 

“You look very handsome dear.” ‘He does, he really does.’ 

“Do you want to try on the black one?” Rose asks Cal curiously. 

“I think I will. Do the both of you mind?” 

As they are discussing trying on the next suit Leonard is inspired, ‘I can tailor that suit to be a tuxedo cut. It would be untraditional, yes. It will not be black and white. However in technicality it will still be a tuxedo. The beautiful angelic woman is his fiancée after all. She looks like Botticelli’s Venus. He has to stand out just as much she does.’ 

“Not at all,” Rose says, with a smile as Cal leaves with a skip in his step and Leonard approaches the pair. 

When Cal is changing Leonard takes this time to talk to his beautiful fiancée. “Excuse me miss. I had an idea regarding your fiancé’s suit. I can tailor it to be a tuxedo style. It would be a style before our time. I would add a silver bow tie.” Rose does not know what to say, it is not often she is stunned into silence. 

“What do you think Elizabeth?” she asks unsurely. 

“I think you should ask your fiancé first,” Elizabeth tells her in a flat emotionless tone. 

After a few minutes Cal comes wearing the black suit. 

‘Black is a very flattering colour on him,’ Rose muses. 

“What do you think?” Elizabeth asks him. 

“It’s very comfortable. I already have something like it.” 

“If you already have something like it then you don’t need it,” Elizabeth states. 

“She’s right, you can always come back again and get it if you change your mind. Leonard wants to talk to you about something,” Rose tells him. 

“Yes Leonard,” Cal says, as they walk back to the change room. 

“It’s regarding the grey suit sir. I heard you have a fiancée. I can tailor the grey suit to be a style of a tuxedo.” 

“That’s not traditional though.” 

“No it’s not. It will be well before it’s time.” 

“Can I make an appointment to discuss this idea further? How about next Monday?”

“That’s acceptable.” 

“I should still like to purchase the suit. I will leave it here.” 

“Very good sir.”

Rose is unsettled. She bites her lip, ‘I could have potentially destroyed B’s wedding.’ She feels someone squeeze her hand and looks into Elizabeth’s kind blue eyes. 

“B...” 

“Sssh, none of that Rose, not here.” 

The men are talking and they are the only people in the shop. 

“It’s your deci...” Rose starts. 

“No, Rose. I don’t decide what a certain man wears, he does. Nothing happened. No harm done.” 

“I have never seen you do that before.” 

“What?” 

“Dress a man.” 

“You have never seen me undress one either,” Elizabeth quips with a wry smile. 

“May I never see that,” Rose states, with a small embarrassed laugh and shaking her head, as if she is ridding her mind of certain images. 

“Rose when he completes his transaction, I would like for you to pay for the hat.” 

“Of course B,” she says, with a knowing smile. 

Cal and Leonard walk to the cash register. 

“I should like to buy the trousers, suit, shirt, and hat.” 

“Very good sir.” 

“Before you close the transaction I should like to buy the hat,” Rose tells him. 

Cal is stunned, ‘What is she doing?’

Leonard asks, “Does that suit you sir?” 

“As the woman wishes,” Cal says politely. 

“Your total for to-day is fifty-nine dollars.” Cal pays and Leonard completes Rose’s purchase, “That will be eleven dollars for you miss.” Rose silently nods and pays. As they turn their backs from the cashier desk Leonard calls excitedly, “See you on Monday Caledon.” 

“See you Monday.” 

Just as they are walking out of the tailor’s and onto the bustling sidewalk Rose discreetly takes his arm. “Consider the hat a gift from your fiancée,” she tells him with a small smile. 

“Where to next?” Cal asks. 

“I need to go to the lavatory. Rose will you accompany me?” Elizabeth asks. 

“Of course.”

“Let’s go to Wanamaker’s,”**** Elizabeth suggests. 

Cal waits across the street until the women return, silently hoping that Elizabeth is not sick. When they return Elizabeth asks, “May we go to the children’s store around the corner? I know someone who is with child and would like to get her a gift.”

“Very well,” Cal says as he thinks about the last time he went to a children’s store, two years ago, when one of his good friend’s wife had a baby. The first time he walked into a children stores was ten years ago, to buy a bear. He smiles at the memory while waiting outside.

Elizabeth is not expecting to be so overwhelmed, being used to children. Preparing to be a mother though is a whole new undertaking. The shelves are stocked full of toys. The sounds of children laughing and some crying fills her ears. The room starts to spin. ‘Soon. This is too soon.’ These words spin over and over in her head like the mobile she is looking at. She cannot even bring herself to touch the different fabrics. ‘I need my mother. Actually I need to see what I have at home first.’ 

“Actually on second thought we can go now. I am ready to go.” 

Rose can plainly see that Elizabeth is in distress, her hands clenched like claws. 

Elizabeth cannot play anymore parts, not as a mother or a wife. A part of her feels like an imposter, as if she is living another woman’s life. ‘I should have been dead a long time ago. I am not ready,’ she tells herself. She knows she is though. She knows her mind is trapping her. 

She feels Rose’s touch on her arm. She hears herself mumble something. She feels disconnected from her body not knowing which way is up or down, everything is fuzzy. Her ears feel as if they have cotton balls in them or she is buried in a pile of snow. ‘Cold, quiet, muffled snow.’

“Come,” Rose encourages. 

When they meet Cal on the the sidewalk Rose asks, “May we go to the park?”

“I think the park will do all of us some good,” he says gently. 

Rose is struck by an idea, “Cal would you mind waiting with my sister at the carriage stop? I can pick up the purchases.” 

“Wouldn’t you rather have me pick up the purchases and you wait with her?” he suggests. 

“You should wait with me Rose,” Elizabeth decides. ‘I am the burden after all. I need these thoughts to stop!’ 

She is internally shaking as if there is a chill going through her body. She needs to get in a carriage before she has a fit. 

“If that’s what you need,” Rose says tentatively. 

“Cal can get the purchases,” Elizabeth confirms looking at him. Silently willing him to move with her eyes because those seem to be the only part of her that is not shivering by her internal blizzard. 

Before Rose can retort he leaves to do just that. 

“Come B lets go walk to the carriage.” 

As Elizabeth and Rose gracefully walk to the carriage a voice stops them, “Rose DeWitt Bukater.” 

Rose freezes. She knows that voice, “How do you do Emily Davenport. It’s a pleasure to see you.” 

“I hear a congratulations are in order.” Rose looks at Emily blankly. 

“For being engaged to one of the finest gentlemen around,” Emily says with a happy smile. 

“Thank you,” Rose says modestly. 

As if on cue Cal comes and tells her, “Rose the carriage has arrived. How do you do Miss Davenport,” he greets by lifting his hat and bowing. 

“I was just congratulating Rose here on the news of the engagement. I didn’t see an announcement in the paper.” 

“It will be published this week,” Cal informs her as Rose looks at him with her large blue eyes that now look like small puddles of surprise. 

“You make a lovely couple. Best wishes to you both,” Emily tells them genuinely. 

“Thank you,” they both say in unison. 

‘It was as if she didn’t even notice Elizabeth,’ Rose thinks. ‘The both of them never got along anyway. Emily Davenport was always callous towards my sister, and yet Elizabeth did not seem to notice.’ 

She smiles when she remembers what Elizabeth told her once about hating someone. “ _Hate is a very intense emotion. I don’t think we were created to hate but we create hate. We fear anyone who is different from us. We forget about the similarities and just focus on the differences. I find it better for me to spend as much time as possible with people I like, so that when I have to spend time with people I would rather not be with, then I have the strength to do so. We all have to be around people we would rather not be around. We have a choice to be unfathomably rude or unfathomably nice._ ” 

Cal interrupts her internal dialogue by a light touch on her shoulder, “Come Rose, let’s go to the carriage now,” he says gently. 

In the carriage he sits across from the two sisters watching his sweet pea tremble. 

“Will she be all right?” he asks, concerned. 

“After a bit,” Rose tells him before she suggests, “Perhaps we should go to the park tomorrow.” 

“I will be at the mill all week. This is my last night at my house. When I return we can continue our time around town,” he suggests kindly. 

Elizabeth does not want this day to end. ‘Why am I a weakling? I need to speak to say something!’ 

“No,” Elizabeth manages to say with a clear wobble in her voice. 

Cal and Rose both look at her stunned. 

“But B...,” Rose begins. 

“I am alright, dandy even. I just got overwhelmed by it all,” Elizabeth interrupts. 

“By all of what?” Rose questions. 

“The baby items mostly. I never knew there were so many and if they would be a high enough quality for my child. I wanted mother as well. I would like to see what we have left of ours from when we were infants. If there’s anything I can use. That’s all.” 

Cal aches for Elizabeth in a way that he did not think he was capable of caring for a woman. ‘She is carrying a child who’s biological father is dead. She is part of a hidden engagement until the announcement is printed. She has to play chaperone to her sister pretending to be her fiancé’s fiancée.’ He does the first thing he can think of in this moment. As tenderly as he can he says, “Sweet pea, come here.” 

Very carefully, because of the unsteady momentum of the carriage moving due to the road being particularly bumpy, Elizabeth moves to sit beside him. “You don’t mind do you Rose?” Cal asks. 

“Not at all,” she replies kindly. 

Cal cannot utter any words that he thinks would be of suitable comfort. He puts his arm around her and holds her. Wanting the action of ‘I am here’ to ring loud and true. To his surprise he starts whispering those three words over again in her ear. The words come by themselves. He tells her tenderly, “Thank you for the hat.” Elizabeth smiles silently in his embrace. 

‘He is what I need’. Her face colours red for her desire for him, ‘Perhaps a week apart will be good for the both of us,’ she thinks silently cooling her rising heat. 

Rose watches the couple across from her dreamily. ‘They are good together.’ She is enamoured with them. ‘I have never seen B this happy.’ For the first time she is looking forward to having a husband, ‘It cannot be just anyone,’ she thinks, as the carriage comes to a halt at the park.

This time Cal takes Elizabeth’s hand first, and then releasing it, takes Rose’s so they can walk in a formal formation side by side like a pair of swans or a pair of courting birds. 

Elizabeth looks around not really needing to be of concern with Rose and Cal. She needs to still pay some attention to keep up pretences. ‘Has there always been this many baby carriages around?’ she ponders. 

Before long she feels a rain drop on her gloved hand. All of a sudden it is a downpour, a thick sheet of rain. 

The trio rush to the closest shop they can find. It turns out to be a bookshop. Elizabeth and Rose love bookshops, especially Rose. “How do you do,” they greet the shop keeper, who has never seen such finely dressed people enter his shop. 

Rose goes to explore the art and psychology section. Elizabeth is drawn to, well she has no idea where she is being drawn to, she finds a book called  Futility, the Wreck of a Titan.*****  There is something about this book that beckons her. 

Cal was never one for reading but he can at least see what is fascinating about books. Upon his browsing he finds a compelling hand drawn book about butterflies. ‘There is something charming about this book.’ 

Rose finds a book about Paris and France and another one called  How We Think by John Dewey.****** She likes to read and learn. 

Elizabeth smiles fondly at the small pile of books Rose is holding carefully as if she is holding a creature so precious that holding it anywhere but close to her chest would hurt it. 

“Did you find a book B?” Rose asks curiously. 

Elizabeth shows her the cover of the book she found, “Looks enticing to say the least,” Rose comments. 

Cal looks at Elizabeth’s choice with one eyebrow raised. ‘She really is an enigma, in every sense of the word. I will not try to decipher her today. She is like a very interesting chess piece, one that can do all the moves at once and none at the same time.’ 

Rose turns to Cal saying, “Your turn dearest.” he silently shares his choice. 

Rose makes the strangest sound he has ever heard. Her cheeks inflate like a chipmunk eating and then mucous comes spraying out of her nose. She is snorting of all things to do in public. Honestly he is offended by her lack of decorum as a woman of her social standing. 

He feels a soft weight settle on his arm. He sees Elizabeth’s eyes shining with light and mirth. “You have found an exceptional book. Don’t let her behaviour tell you otherwise,” she tells him honestly and kindly. 

She walks to Rose and whispers, “You have offended your fiancé and insulted him with your actions.” 

The old bookkeeper is looking on silently. He has never seen such entertainment in his shop. ‘There is someone in their group who is missing or has yet to join. What is my business to postulate such ideas?’

“Ahem. Will you be buying those books or just laughing at them?” he asks sternly, but his light blue, almost silver eyes, old with age, are shining with amusement. 

“We will be buying them,” Elizabeth says politely. 

“Cal I owe you an apology,” Rose begins as they walk to the counter. “Your book looks like an enlightening read. I didn’t intend to offend you. Butterflies are very dignified creatures. Perhaps we can relate to them more than we think. I apologize for my reckless behaviour. Is there anything I can do?” 

“I didn’t see your choices. I wish to,” he tells her coldly. 

Rose shows him the books about France, Paris, and thinking. 

“Have you ever been to Paris or France?” he asks flatly. 

“No.” 

“It’s quite pleasurable, maybe we will go one day. The book about the philosopher looks like an informative read. I believe that woman can’t read such things. There is nothing more dangerous than a woman having ideas in her head,” Cal expresses honestly.

Rose is aghast, ‘How dare he tell me what to and what not to read!’ She suddenly pities her sister. She wants to reply harshly and cruelly but before she can form a response Cal arrogantly says to her, with a pompous smirk, “Oh and Rose, I accept your apology.” 

He walks towards the counter and continues to be, ‘As annoying as a bent book page,’ Rose thinks bitterly. She casts her eyes wide with wonder at all of the tomes before her, ‘that enclose infinite wisdom under their leather covers’.

Holding her small pile of books that much closer she glares at Cal who tries to hurry them along, “This poor gentleman has been waiting long enough to close. We will have to walk in the rain to the carriage.” 

Elizabeth is looking at the owner of the store behind the counter intently.She can see that there is something eccentric about him. ‘Much like me. I would like to come here again.’ 

When the mysterious man behind the counter registers the books about France, Paris, and thinking, he can see that this woman is very bright in mind and has a fiery spirit. ‘Yet her heart is not yet aflame, she is still young and will learn what it means to truly live not just be alive.’

And while processing Elizabeth’s choice he perceives, ‘The book about the titan...ahh this women yes, she is eccentric. I see something in her that I see in myself. The sight perhaps. I wonder if she knows about it? If not she will learn.’ 

He has to hide his smile when he rings up the book about butterflies, ‘This is a man trying to find out who he is, deciding between what he is told to be and who he sees himself as. He is trying to break free. A most appropriate read.’ 

“Will it be together or separately?” he asks. 

Rose replies, “Separately.”

“One dollar for you then, twenty five cents for the ship book, and twenty five cents for the butterfly book,” he chirps. 

“May I ask how you stay in business when your prices are so low?” Cal asks curiously. 

“It’s not all about money, young man,” is the vague reply. 

Before Cal can retort the shop keeper says, “I am closing now, until we meet again.” 

Elizabeth replies with certainty, “We will meet again. Thank you for this fortuitous meeting.”

The shopkeeper kindly waves goodby. 

Elizabeth furrows her chestnut brown eyebrows deep in thought about the strange words she said to the shopkeeper. Cal and Rose did not seem to notice their unusual exchange. Within her being she feels a pull as if something has been awakened. ‘It is as if there is something inside of me trying to come out and it is not my baby. I need to change the subject,’ she tells herself strongly. 

“Cal,” she calls his name to get his attention, “You are welcome to join us for supper,” she tells him politely. 

“Perhaps for a course,” he replies distantly. 

During the carriage ride home they are all quiet. When they arrive at the house the rain is cascading down ‘It is as if God is crying torrential tears of sorrow or joy, I am not sure which,’ Cal thinks as he reflects on the heavens above while his gaze is on the streams of water below. 

Rose is already inside the house. She left the carriage just as soon as it stopped, letting herself out, thinking, ‘I am done with manners and being polite.’ 

Elizabeth, on the other hand, lets Cal help her out of the carriage. She admits to herself, ‘I have been craving his touch all day.’ 

As Cal walks her up the slippery steps towards the door he says, “I don’t think your sister likes me much after today.”

Elizabeth replies to him kindly, “I can’t speak for her completely, however she likes you just fine. She didn’t like your words towards her. Rose craves freedom. She doesn’t like being told she can’t do something or have something. She will sort herself out. As I said, she likes you just fine. That’s why she is bothered. We do need to talk about what you said in the bookshop. However, I am too tired right now.” 

When they reach the door they are greeted by Ruth and beside her, Silas, wagging his tail happily. Ruth has her arms crossed and greets Elizabeth and Cal sternly, “Rose just came storming into the house in a right huff. Did you do anything untoward?” 

“No, mother. These two did. I invited Cal to stay for supper and if he would accept my invitation, to stay the night. The weather is ghastly and the carriage was slipping while we were journeying home. If you excuse me I must process my purchases and change into dry clothes.”

“Cal, darling, you are welcome to do the same,” Elizabeth tells him.

“There is a spare shirt, coat, and pants in the guest room if you will accept them.” Ruth tells him politely. 

Her stern gaze lands on Elizabeth, satisfied.“Do not dawdle before supper please.”

In Elizabeth’s room, Trudy is helping her undress. Elizabeth is silently contemplating on the transformation of the day, ‘From the blissful morn to a drizzly evening. May we find the grace in the day and evening before its denouement.’ 

Elizabeth chooses to change into one of her favourite long sleeved tea dresses. It is a dark aqua colour with plenty of beading on the overskirt, with the underskirt a paler blue that is almost white. White lace and a silver embellishment cover the bodice and long lace sleeves with silver inlays match the embellishment on the bodice. 

This dress makes Elizabeth’s insides sing. ‘I should wear it while it still fits,’ she thinks while Trudy puts on the whimsical new shoes that Cal bought her. 

It had been a tempestuous day around town to-day but she knows she would not have had it any other way. ‘My baby is safe and so am I,’ she thinks, centering herself in this comforting belief as she wiggles her toes in her whimsical shoes. 

She feels as if she is gliding as she makes her way down the stairs to dine with her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Fairmount Park is a famous park in Philadelphia. It is divided by the Schuylkill River. This story will be visiting Fairmount Park quite a few times. 
> 
> ** I was curious to learn about the story of shoeboxes. It is a story that is weaved into the themes of innovation, industrialization, and inequality, topics that are too large for a footnote. Anyway shoeboxes were invented in the late 1800s from pressed wood and shoeboxes remained this way essentially until the 1970s. What was created in the 1900s was brightly coloured paper of all sorts of different colours. 
> 
> *** A rule of best society etiquette is that when a gentleman is walking with a women he walks on the side closest to the road. When he walking with two women it is not appropriate for him to walk in the middle. This was the rule that Cal was practicing. 
> 
> **** Wanamaker’s was the first department store to be established in America, which is a big change for the textile industry and the middle class. 
> 
> ***** Futility the Wreck of a Titan is a novella written by Morgan Robertson and it was first published 1898. The book was about a British ship called the Titan and it was sailing on it’s maiden voyage where it hit an iceberg. There was also not enough lifeboats so a large amount of the passengers died. Sound familiar. 
> 
> ****** How We Think was a book written by John Dewey in 1910. It was a popular non-fiction book. I thought that it was a book that Rose would be interested in reading.


	15. A Supper of Silence

Rose has not yet arrived in the dining room when Elizabeth gets there. Her mother gives her a discreet nod of approval. Cal is seated and is being stoic. When Elizabeth starts to pull out her chair though, he silently and dutifully pulls it out for her, while they wait for Rose to appear. 

Ruth asks Trudy if Rose has been informed that supper is being served. Trudy explains that Rose clearly told her she is not hungry. “Very well, it will be just me and the happy couple then,” Ruth says primly. “How was your time around town? I hope you did everything you needed to do. Did you find any baby items my dear?” Ruth asks while looking at Elizabeth gently and curiously. 

Elizabeth brings her gaze down to her gold rimmed shallow china bowl holding this evening’s soup. She rotates her silver spoon in the steaming creamy liquid. Her stomach is unsettled and queasy from the day. “I went into the children’s store but I could not stay long. It was overwhelming. There were all different blankets with different styles in each colour. I would like to see if there is anything here, from when we were infants, before I go out and buy items. I missed your presence mother. Perhaps when appropriate we can go together.” 

Ruth smiles proudly, “I would like that. Cal I trust that my daughters were not too much of a struggle to manage.” 

“Not at first, no. Your Rose is quite a jumping Jesus, Ruth.” *

“A jumping Jesus?...I don’t believe I am familiar with that term?” 

“I apologize. I heard one of the men use it at the mill. It means that she is a zealot.I observed that she is enthusiastic about reading.”

“Ah, saw that part of her did you?”

“It is rude to talk about people when they are not here,” Rose interrupts as she proudly enters the dining room.

Elizabeth smiles warmly at her sister. She is glad that she made the choice to attend supper. 

They are having a cream of mushroom soup, roasted cabbage with apple, seared halibut with lemon, and the plum cake from the previous evening for dessert. 

“It is also rude to interrupt or be tardy to supper Rose,” Ruth reprimands. “Now, obviously something happened and all three of you are of an age when such nonsense can be put aside.”

“Being told that you don’t have a right to think because you have the wrong genitalia is not nonsense, mother!” Rose spits out, as her ignited blue eyes glare at Cal. 

“I apologize for that comment. It was unseemly of me and in the wrong setting to share such views. You also deeply offended me while being in the role of my fiancée. You acted with a behaviour that was appalling to me. We were in a public setting where our character of Best Society is everything. You brought that into question this afternoon,” he states. “I am sure that old man will tell tales of the unrefined royalty he encountered in his shop on this dreary Philadelphia afternoon.” 

“Maybe Elizabeth could write a story about such an event,” Rose ponders aloud playfully. 

“Even now you mock me,” Cal growls.

In this moment Elizabeth sees something that alarms her. Cal has told her that he angers easily. Now she sees the signs, ‘His body is speaking in whispers,’ she thinks. 

She watches him clench his fingers and make fists, squeezing his fists so hard that his knuckles are going white. Before making fists, he was discreetly fiddling with his silver utensils without picking them up.

Elizabeth cautiously and tenderly touches his hand. She attempts to sooth his constricted fingers. Her delicate fingers travel to his pulse point on his wrist. She draws small unnoticeable circles, much like he had done to her this morning. She feels him compose himself internally before glancing up to see that he has briefly closed his eyes. She feels and hears him take a deep breath. He removes his right hand from her ministrations, and squeezes it in gratitude.

“I am a man with faults Rose, just like any man or woman. I don’t like to be mocked. I was raised to be proper. Whenever I am anywhere public, be it with people I am acquainted with or not, propriety is everything,” he explains. “You have mocked me twice to-day,” he finishes disturbed. 

Elizabeth observes that Cal and Rose would not have made a good couple. ‘Handsome on the outside yes, but each of them, a complete storm of hurt and confusion on the inside.’

Elizabeth knows Rose is utterly bothered about his comment on women who think deeply. She is reminded of the affect that she had over him this morning when her empowerment as a woman was awakened. She realized the kind of influence she has on him. 

She takes a deep breath, looks at him with her intense gaze, and tilting her head to the side, asks, “Darling, do you deem this setting appropriate to ask you to explain in further detail your comment that upsetted my sister?” her voice is light and airy. 

He looks around the dining room briefly, ‘Of course this is an appropriate place. What is this woman up to?’ 

He replies, “It is.” 

“May I ask you then, what made you think such a comment was warranted? Do you really believe that women don’t have a right to think? Are we just good for making babies and making you look splendid? Because, my darling fiancé, it is nineteen hundred and eleven. Those ideas are destined to change.” 

Cal knows he has to be very careful how he responds. ‘I need to convey my thoughts while not offending my fiancée who is with child.’ 

“I was deeply offended by Rose’s behaviour over my book choice. I knew that perhaps my comment would offend her as much as her actions did me. It was quite childish of me. I was raised to find a woman of fine stature and standing to be by my side and to give me children. To love and to own, my father said.” 

Elizabeth opens her mouth to interrupt but Cal raises his hand. “Please,” he acknowledges, “Being taught something and living the lesson are two very different things. I am learning that now.”

“Elizabeth I am learning that to own a woman is near impossible,” he admits tenderly, before turning to Rose.

“Rose some men react more harshly to a freethinking woman. You need to be careful who you share your views with,” he cautions. 

“Do you think we can create a compromise,” Elizabeth suggests. “As Best Society women, we spend most of our time at home or around the city. Sometimes we paint or play music. They are fine activities, but reading helps us to learn about the world, our world. I am not comfortable giving that up, not even for you. Reading helps me to make this world tangible. For example, at first a flower may seem just like a flower but when reading about one; we can learn that the flower’s leaf is called a petal. Can you really deny me the honour of learning?”

Cal ponders on her words, “It is not learning that is the problem. It is the product of the learning. Some men don’t want women to be at the head of the household.” 

“I am not talking about being at the head of the household.” 

“Where does it stop, Elizabeth, if not at the head of the household! From thirteen and even before, my father took away my pleasurable activities, just like his father did for him, so I could learn about the steel business and be successful to provide for my family.”

“I hear what you are saying,” Elizabeth tells him softly. “I do not wish to relieve you of your duty to be head of the household, which has been expected of you since you were just a boy. I just want to know that I have the freedom to choose what I read.” 

Elizabeth sees a new side to Cal, ‘He is a man of circumstances that inhibited his own freedom.’ In her mind she sees a little boy stuck at a desk instead of playing in the street or dirtying his knees outside. 

He considers her words, “I will accompany you to any bookshop that we go to. You will have a limit of only three books every month. If you don’t finish the books in that time, you can apply the same number to the next month. I need to keep track of what’s being spent, considering you will be spending my money. Do you find this acceptable?” he asks. 

Elizabeth has to think about it. She knows he could be much more strict. ‘He is right, it is his money after all. If it would make him more comfortable, as we are still getting to know each other...’

She has an idea, “I do accept your proposition. However, do you think there is a chance in the future, when we know each other better and trust each other more, that perhaps, you could give me an allowance for when you go away on business?” 

He ponders this for a minute, ‘This is like negotiating a business agreement. In a way I suppose it is.’ A part of him soars at thinking about them being together in the future and yet it is too soon for a clear answer. 

He does not want to dismiss her too rapidly, “Perhaps in the future when we are at that position in our union. I don’t detect a problem. As you said I will be better acquainted and God willing, I will love and trust you. I am growing to care for you greatly. 

“I am learning that your happiness, and to see you happy, is a quest of the highest order. Everything I do now and in the future will have both of our best interests at heart. I will be marrying you and you me, in a union where we each have a part to play. A sacred partnership I suppose. Everything we do, we do together even if we are separated, by distance or circumstance. 

“I want and need you in my life Elizabeth. I want to have children with you,“ he tells her as he gently places his hand on her stomach. “I want us to grow together and create together. I want to go to sleep with you in my arms in our warm bed. 

“Look, you have me completely undone, becoming a poet at your dining room table in the presence of your mother and sister.” 

Elizabeth laughs with tears in her eyes. All she wants to do is kiss him. However, no matter how much she wants to, she does not feel comfortable doing so in front of her mother and Rose. 

She clasps his hands in hers and kisses the top of each one bringing them up to her cheek, leaning her cheek into them. Enough words have been said at this time. No more are needed and supper proceeds with a renewed silence. 


	16. A New Room

As Ruth watches her eldest daughter being visibly cherished and adored verbally by her fiancé, she cannot question the relief she feels as she observes how this could be a very successful union. Cal is still a young man and she sees how serious he is, ‘For good reason. His father expects great things from him, that much I know. 

‘Elizabeth adds light to his life. She is a playful spirit, come to think of it more like a wood nymph. Cal will give her stability and a comfortable life. More than that, he will give her trust, something no man has ever given her. I can see Cal giving instead of taking. My daughter is opening her fragile violated heart and becoming renewed.’

Rose is a different story. With Ruth somewhat neglecting Elizabeth as a child she put her attentions onto Rose instead. Rose grew to be more entitled and spoiled.

Looking at Rose Ruth quietly observes, ‘She has become a beautiful young woman, who has not yet finished school. It is only February, Rose still has time to enjoy her youth.’

Ruth is not getting younger and one of her faults is vanity. She fears age. Above that though, she fears losing her social standing. ‘I need my daughters to be married off well, to know they are going to be alright. Elizabeth will soon learn the sacrifices that a mother has to make.’ 

Dessert is now being served. Ruth is inspired by an idea, “Elizabeth,” she says, getting her daughter’s attention. Elizabeth’s cheeks are rosy but Ruth can tell she is fatigued. 

“Yes, mother?” 

“Has Cal seen the library yet? Since our talk of books was so enlightening, I realized that perhaps he would like to see our collection.” From the corner of her eye she can see Rose stiffen as if someone has thrown cold water on her. 

“Only if it is all right with Rose first,” Elizabeth says, eyeing her sister. “I know it’s your favourite room, a sanctuary of sorts. Only if you permit us entrance will I show Cal the library.” 

Rose appreciates her sister’s request. Something about the idea bothers her. ‘Oh yes I know. The young Mr. Hockley will be strutting around scrutinizing some of my favourite possessions. Books are a reflection of the person. I am being very vulnerable letting someone into my favourite room.’ 

Then something quite unexpected happens, as Cal suggests, “If you permit Elizabeth to show me the library you are welcome to keep company with us. You have my word as a gentleman that I will refrain from criticizing you or your reading choices in any way you conceive to be offensive.” 

Rose regards Cal with light suspicion and speculatively thinks, ‘He seems to be genuine.’ She decides to give him a second chance. “Very well. Trudy could you please have two brandies with ice ready to be served and the fireplace lit,” she instructs. “Oh and could you also lay the blanket down on the floor. Thank you,” she adds. 

Trudy leaves the dining room obediently following her orders. “A brandy is a man’sdrink Rose, why not have Chardonnay or something similar,” Ruth reprimands. 

“Oh, mother, drinks don’t have a gender,” Rose retorts. 

Elizabeth snorts into her water glass. Unfortunately the water trickles down her throat the wrong way, causing her to cough and sputter. 

Cal turns to look at her with affection and amusement in his eyes. He starts to rub and pat her convulsing back, soothing her. 

Elizabeth recovers with a loud burp and Rose cackles, “Getting some early practice Cal?” Rose teases. 

Elizabeth’s face is glowing a dark red the colour that reminds Rose of the wine in her mother’s glass. Elizabeth lightly coughs as she recovers from her embarrassment.

‘She definitely inherited vanity from myself,’ Ruth considers fondly, before she claps her hands to regain the room’s dignity. “I think that this behaviour has concluded this evening’s meal. If any of you need anything I will be in the parlour,” Ruth announces before departing. 

Rose casts her eyes downwards, ‘I disappointed mother...again.’ 

Elizabeth stands up to approach her sister, “Sissy...” she starts tenderly, only continuing to talk when Rose looks up at her with her beautiful blue eyes that look like pools of water with drops of green, as if there are trees overlooking the pools. “Everything is alright. Mother probably wanted to avoid unneeded confrontation between you and Cal. You both are like fire and air I swear by all the elements that be. Dessert was finished anyway. Come let’s go to the library. It’s not the same without you,” Elizabeth coaxes.

Cal is listening to the hushed conversation. Discreetly he sits up, leans across the table and says gently, “You can put all of my reading skills to shame.” 

“Could your reputation survive such a profound loss?” Rose quips. 

“There is only one way to find out,” Cal tells Rose playfully as he offers her his arm for her to escort him to the library. 

As she is walking to the library Elizabeth reflects back on the day and realizes that this was their walking arrangement in town. At first their contrived conduct in the afternoon was awkward as expected, but later became downright mortifying. Now there is an air of comfort and play, at least that is what she observes and muses. She is not too far behind the two charlatans, ‘Yes, the Gilded Charlatans that will be my secret name for these two.’ 

The ‘Gilded Charlatans’ find the plush red reading chairs in front of an already flickering red and orange fire, as per Rose’s instruction. 

“Ahem.”

“There you are. Where were you?” Rose asks. 

“I got distracted,” Elizabeth states as she looks at the shadowed pair, “Should I be concerned about you seducing my fiancé Rosie?”

Invisible heat grows in Rose’s cheeks. 

Cal is silently amused. Something about Elizabeth leads him on that she is teasing.

“He is tempting but he is not my ideal character for a husband. I think we would be quite vicious to each other if to-day was any indication,” Rose states.

“I agree, I would much rather be your friend than a lover to you Rose,” Cal quips lightly.

Both women blush for two very different reasons. 

An unfamiliar familiar heat is aflame in Elizabeth. She wants, no yearns to be closer to him. 

Rose seems to partially notice her sisters plight and says, “Come B. Sit and I will braid your hair before bed.” 

Cal looks around the dimly lit library, the flames of the fire creating a moody effect. He recalls last night in Elizabeth’s room and the kiss they shared by firelight. ‘I want to feel her again, touch her supple skin, and smell her.’ There is a familiar tightening of arousal in his trousers that visits whenever he thinks about his sweet pea intimately. He subtly shifts and knocks some books that are placed on the reading table beside the chairs. 

Elizabeth and Rose start at the sudden thudding sound that is both muffled and piercing to their ears at the same time as something heavy lands on the carpeted floor. 

The doors to the library open. There is no casting of a shadow that reveals a human. Instead what comes and touches the top of his hand is cold and wet. The alien touch startles Cal and he lets out an undignified small shout, that is lower than a squeal. He looks beside him to see Silas loyally sitting next to him. 

“Are you alright?” Elizabeth asks with some concern. ‘I have not heard him make that sound before. Come to think of it, I have not known him long enough to hear a sound like that.’ 

“Yes,” Cal says, composing himself. “I was just startled is all.” 

By contrast, Rose is trying, with difficulty, to maintain her composure and not to laugh at the undignified sound. ‘I did not know a man could make a sound like that.’ Her erupting giggle is interrupted when she hears him say, “I apologize about the books.” 

Rose sobers her laughing grin, “It’s alright no harm done.” 

“What books were they anyway?” Cal asks curiously. 

“Shakespeare,” Rose replies. 

“What is your favourite play?” he asks. 

“Depends,” Rose says, as she weighs her words carefully, “My favourite tragedy is Romeo and Juliet.” 

Elizabeth quietly scoffs but lets her sister continue, “My favourite comedy is Twelfth Night. What are your favourite plays?” Rose asks. 

Cal picks up the books and glides his fingers over the leather cover reverently as if it is an old friend of sorts. 

Silas is lying down lightly snoring by Elizabeth’s feet. “It has been a long time,” Cal begins saying, “since I have read Shakespeare. I remember I quite liked Macbeth and A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” 

“That’s one of my favourites,” Elizabeth comments. 

“What are your others?” Cal inquires, yearning to know more about the woman sitting on the blanket on the floor with a dog at her feet. 

“I like Othello. It’s a true tragedy, a man gets lost in a spiral of jealousy and hate and his wife dies from it. I think that it speaks quite true to the human condition and the weaving of envy in our lives,” Elizabeth finishes with a yawn. 

“Why don’t you like Romeo and Juliet?” Rose counters. 

“You don’t like Romeo and Juliet!” Cal exclaims at this confession. “I thought a romantic like you...would.” 

“It’s not that I don’t like it. I find it to be a subjective experience. The reader has to understand their notion of love first,” Elizabeth states while Rose scoffs. 

“Love cannot be understood, it has to be felt,” Rose declares. 

“No,” Cal says. “It has to be experienced.” 

“See, we all have a different understanding of love. To me, love is having the gift of life and living allows me to find connections that bring me, truth, freedom, beauty, and love. 

“Romantic love, to me, is meeting someone who sparks a hidden desire within me. Finding a romantic partner who sees our union as sacred and wants to share his life with me,” Elizabeth states emphatically. 

“What about you sissy?” Elizabeth asks lightly. 

Rose takes a big sip of brandy, “Love, to me, is finding someone who makes me feel alive by his actions. He opens me to the world by showing me how life and each day matter. We feel and experience the adventures of life together. He is someone who helps me discover aspects of myself that I never knew existed. Who sees a me that no one else does.”

Elizabeth smiles at her sister in encouragement for her future.

“Your turn Cal,” Rose invites. 

Cal looks at Elizabeth who is turned towards the fire. She is watching the flames intently as if they are telling her a story that only she can see. Her silhouette is glowing yellow, orange, and black in the fire light.

“Love evolves,” he begins. “At birth we are taught that love means hugs and kisses. As we grow the idea of love grows. It changes from nice touches to being taught that love is providing. 

“Then as if all at once. Upon a single moment love makes itself known, as a force, a calamity of light, that invades all of your senses. 

“You meet a beautiful woman who you just want to have in your life. She makes you a better person. She sees all of you. She doesn’t flinch when amongst your faults. She brings out the best in you.” He has never been more comfortable being vulnerable thanin this moment. 

Before Elizabeth can think about her actions she is leaving the floor and Silas’s side to go and embrace Cal in the large velvet reading chair. She kisses his forehead before she sits on his lap. 

Cal wraps his arms around Elizabeth, one hand spread protectively over her abdomen. 

“What were we speaking of...Romeo and Juliet?” Rose ponders aloud. 

For some reason that makes them all break out into loud laughter. A calm comfortable silence ensues. 

Cal knows that in some other reality if he was engaged to Rose they would both be unhappy. He would live that relationship by his father’s words. “ _Love, son, to a woman is giving her anything she desires. Buy her diamonds and gifts. Son mark my words just buy a woman something and you will have her heart._ ” 

Cal thought this to be true of all women until he met Elizabeth. ‘There is something different about her, she never demanded for me to change, I just did. She awakened something that was dormant in me. I want to be with her in every possible way a man can be with a woman.’ 

Rose looks over once more as she quietly watches the embracing couple. ‘They are an enchanting couple.’ Her head is filled with the idea of love. ‘Maybe love is a happy thing that can exist for me one day.’ 

“I am going to bed, good night,” Rose announces. 

“Good night, I will see you on Sunday,” Cal tells her as she acknowledges him with a nod. 

Cal fondly looks down at Elizabeth who appears to be sound asleep. The little puffs of air coming out of her mouth affirm his suspicion. ‘I have to carry her to her bedroom.’ 

“Is she asleep on you again?” Rose asks with amusement before she departs.

“Apparently.”

“You could try making yourself less comfortable,” Elizabeth comments sleepily. “I was but there is something hard nudging my backside.” 

Cal’s face flushes, except no one can tell in the low light, ‘A small mercy’. 

“I-I-I-I need you to get up,” he tells her frazzled. 

Elizabeth slowly gets up and follows Rose out of the library. At the doorway she tells him, “I would like for you to come to me to-night, if that pleases you. Oh and close the door behind you. Silas come.” 

Cal is puzzled about Elizabeth’s behaviour. ‘She seems to be very awake now as if she wasn’t asleep at all.’ Then he realizes, ‘She was married before of course she knows. She is probably enjoying the effect that she is having on me.’ As he thinks this his nudge of arousal grows. 


	17. A Cosmic Union

Cal visits the guest room to practice his nightly hygiene routine. He dresses in the borrowed sleep shirt and puts on the night jacket. He tousles the grey linen sheets so they appear to be slept in and he tactfully makes his way to Elizabeth’s room.

After speaking to her mother and being told that Anzo, one of the horses, has a mild abscess on his hoof, Elizabeth promises herself to go and see the horses in the morning. Her mother also informs her that Cal will be picked up early. Cal’s early departure prompts her to ask Margaret to prepare Cal’s breakfast for early tomorrow morning. 

Once upstairs Elizabeth bids Rose good night and visits the lavatory in her room, wearing her white cotton night frock with white embroidered flowers. ‘I love this gown. I feel unconditionally natural.’ The recognizable sound of her bedroom door opening dams her flowing thoughts of admiration for herself. 

Elizabeth peeks around the corner of the wooden lavatory doorway and sees Silas jumping lightly off the bed. 

‘He is here,’ she thinks giddily. Elizabeth cannot wait. She runs to envelop him. 

Cal lifts her up in his arms and her long dark hair shrouds them as they share a passionate embrace. 

“I want you,” she whispers breathlessly.

“You have me,” he whispers softly. 

She kisses him again and in a husky whisper says, “In me. I want to feel you move inside me.” 

‘I want that to,’ he thinks fiercely. 

“Please Cal,” Elizabeth implores. ‘Words seem useless,’ she ponders beneath a haze of passion. 

“What about the child?” Cal asks, with some concern, as he walks to the bed and sits down. 

“It’s alright, the doctor said that intimacy is common,” Elizabeth informs him cryptically as she sits down beside him and thinks back to the visit with the doctor. ‘He did not say anything about intimacy. I did not ask him. My want for Cal feels like a natural current of heat. Intimacy must be safe.’ 

“Alright then,” Cal says, swallowing nervously. ‘I have never done this before. This is my maiden voyage, I suppose. Elizabeth is more experienced than me when it comes to intercourse.’ 

Elizabeth sees his predicament of hesitation and takes hold of both his hands gently and tenderly she says, “It’s alright if you are not ready.” 

“No. I want to, I just don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Oh, darling, you couldn’t hurt me.” 

‘This is the moment she is wanting me,’ he thinks as he gazes lovingly at her tousled hair and her fair face with warm cheeks. The darkness of the room is hiding her mesmerizing blue orbs from him. ‘She smells intoxicating. I want more of her.’ 

They move closer as if there are invisible hands pushing them together.

They start slowly kissing at first, tasting each other and experiencing the lightness and softness of each other’s lips. 

Cal caresses Elizabeth’s face lightly with the pads of his fingers. She closes her eyes in pure bliss. He then moves his tender affection to Elizabeth’s neck and suckles on the smooth skin.‘She tastes as good as she smells.’ 

Upon his ministrations he finds a spot just below her ear that makes her gasp with a sound so enticing he wants to find more of those places. As he is seeking out these hidden anatomical areas...

Elizabeth is threading and pulling on his hair, making him growl with pleasure. ‘I do not want her to stop.’ Her hands travel to his night shirt and she pulls it nimbly off to explore his chest. He has broad shoulders and lean muscles, ‘He is very well endowed. I want to taste him. I do not mind that he has a hairy chest.’ She lightly kisses his ‘Amorously inviting pliant lips,’ silently encouraging him to continue pleasuring her. 

Cal commences the erotic task of finding Elizabeth’s hidden spots that are hidden even to her, eliciting soft gasps, whines, and sighs of pleasure. 

He says, in the most huskily deep voice Elizabeth has ever heard from him, “I am not going to last. I need to be in you.” She silently lays down and looks at him above her through her pleasure filled gaze. She hears her pleas and cries of pleasure and enjoyment as the primal heat flows through her, ‘Like a river of fire.’ 

‘This is a cosmic union. We are being joined by fate,’ she thinks, through the fog of desire that is engulfing any single thought that does not revolve around Cal. ‘He is mine,’ Elizabeth thinks primordially as she wraps her legs loosely around his waist. 

Their hands are intertwined. 

‘Her breasts are spectacular,’ Cal appreciates as he kneads them with his lips, teeth, and tongue, further awakening the plump centre. 

Last night he wanted to respect her body as much as possible so he refrained from letting his hands and lips wander. 

He kisses under Elizabeth’s naval where the child is growing. He is starting to see a very tiny bump, ‘It is as if her skin is slightly rounded there.’ 

He prods her primal centre that is lubricated with want. Elizabeth nods silently conveying her permission. Her heavily lidded eyes never leaving his enraptured gaze.

In one sudden motion he enters her. ‘She is very tight,’ he thinks, as Elizabeth whispers in his ear, “Move,” gently nipping his ear lobe. 

He does as she commands, in and out his hips have created a smooth rhythm all on their own. The keening sounds Elizabeth makes are indescribable to both of their ears as they are in the throes of their loving embrace. 

Soon their bodies shine with sweat and the sounds that Cal makes are primal to his ears as he hears her voice ache with pleasure, calling for him to go, “Faster.” 

‘I will go as far and as fast as I can to bring her to her pleasurable release.’ 

Elizabeth feels her nails graze the soft vast plain of hairs on his back, making a trail of burning tendrils. 

Cal sees her back arch in the most erotic nature, her body willingly and consciously pulling him further into her. 

She muffles the sound of her pleasurable peak by biting his shoulder, as if he has guided her to a most breathtaking vista.

As Cal watches her poignant release of carnal desire he comes completely undone and spills his seed deep inside her. His hips shudder and a deep calm comes over him, as if a giant silent cosmic wave is turning him around in its smooth current. ‘She is a goddess of the universe. I feel as if I am in the cosmic throes of creation. I am more than a man, I am not a God. I am life. I have just completed an act as old as time itself. Love. I feel as if I am falling into the the wisps of eternal love.’ These thoughts settle in Cal as he tumbles through a wave of calmness while on top of his cosmic goddess. He is careful not to put weight on her abdomen, resting his frame on his forearms as he gently pulls out and pulls her tenderly and lovingly in his arms. 

Elizabeth is in a state of euphoric release, her body and mind accelerated and calm. Her only thought as she is pulled limply in his warm arms is, ‘No words are needed. We both experienced a new part of ourselves alone and together. He ignited my body to make ecstatic sounds I did not know were possible.’

One of Cal’s last thoughts before he succumbs to a comforting loving darkness is, ‘I did not expect her to be so responsive to me. We transformed our intimate connection. She gave herself to me.’ With this his emotions surface, his eyes welling with a slight mist, ‘Other men would take from her. She gave both of us an experience that only we will ever share.’ 

With love in his heart for the woman who loves him in return they fall asleep, wrapped around each other. Their cosmic union transcends time and space, ascending into a realm of love light and trust where their affinity for each other grows into infinity. 


	18. A Week Long Parting

Cal squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to fall back into a peaceful slumber and ignores the rousing urge to wake up, knowing he has to leave early for work. A part of him is still experiencing the climax that he and Elizabeth shared. When he thinks about last night he becomes breathless, as if a giant wind of love is blowing through him, ‘Leaving me without any other thought,’ he thinks as he holds Elizabeth that much closer. 

Elizabeth is cradled in his arms, their legs intertwined, with one of his hands curved around her growing womb. To Cal she looks like she is glowing in this dark room. 

Elizabeth stirs in his arms and nuzzles her back closer to him. Her brows are slightly furrowed as if she is returning from a distant shore, not on her own accord. He lightly and tenderly touches her cheek to calm her. He forgot about his alarm clock, ‘driiiiing’ and jumps out of bed, Silas accompanying his surprise and the ringing cacophony by barking loudly. His loud barks of surprise penetrate the silent room making the stone walls ring. 

“Goodness gracious,” Cal angrily mutters as he tosses the covers over and stands up nude in the dark to find his night jacket splayed on he floor. He walks to the guest room to stop the horrible ear piercing racket. When he exits the room, the shrill ring still echoing in his ears, he stubs his toe on the wooden stair and hobbles to Elizabeth’s room withholding a pained groan. 

Elizabeth is in the midst of sitting up from her cosmic reverie, and swiftly straightens upwhen she sees the tall silhouette of Cal hobbling into her room. “Darling, you’re limping what happened?” she asks, concerned. 

“It’s nothing, leave it alone Elizabeth,” Cal growls, as he hobbles to sit at the wooden table by the window. 

“If it is nothing then why do you speak to me in that tone?” Elizabeth retorts. 

“I stubbed my toe,” Cal reveals in a small voice that reminds Elizabeth of a child. 

“Come here and let me see it. I am told I have healing hands,” Elizabeth tells him playfully and honestly. 

He thought back to last night as her soft hands and folds enveloped him. ‘Now I have two problems,’ he grumbles with frustration to himself. 

Elizabeth turns on the bedside light and with a sultry walk makes her way towards him. To Cal’s eyes she looks like an enchantress who shines as bright as a star. 

“May I see your toe?” Elizabeth asks firmly and gently. 

Cal relinquishes his hold on the toe of his foot resting on his opposite knee. “It doesn’t look broken,” Elizabeth observes aloud. “It’s not purple or black and the nail is not broken. I think I know just the thing that would make it better.” Cal looks at her perplexed. “A kiss,” she whispers before kissing a kiss as soft as a flower petal. 

‘Somehow her kiss did ease the pain a little,’ Cal observes with cautious wonder.

“And a cold cloth to help with any swelling,” Elizabeth adds lightly. 

As Elizabeth was examining his foot she could tell that he had another problem. She is learning that he is a complex man, she likes that about him. ‘It is as if parts of himself are in a constant battle. I want to be a person of safety and strength, a safe harbour of sorts. I want my body to be his sanctuary.’ Her thoughts conclude as she silently places the cold cloth on his pulsing toe. 

Cal closes his eyes in pain or pleasure, ‘I do not know.’ He feels her lay her soft, strong, warm hand on his cheek. Her supple delicate lips caress his forehead. He feels moisture well in his void of darkness. 

When Cal opens his eyes Elizabeth can see they are shining with unshed tears. ‘What effect is this woman having on me?’ 

“Are we moving too fast?” The room is reflecting the spinning thoughts that he softly murmurs aloud. He feels his breath quicken, his unwanted growing arousal is not waning. 

Elizabeth sees the familiar signs of a fit, like those she has...and before she can do anything to impede the oncoming crisis, Cal shouts, ‘Don’t touch me! You are a witch! You tricked me into your lair! You laid with me!” 

‘Now...what, I am losing my composure I need to leave.’ He cannot leave, his feet feel heavy with weight as if there is a large anchor holding him down. When he tries to stand up halfway between standing and sitting the room starts to spin, as if he is lost in an eternally curving spiral, ‘Or I am the spiral.’ 

“Cal...Caledon...darling...love!” Elizabeth softly shouts to get his attention. “You are having a fit, you will be alright, it will pass. Breathe in....breathe out.” She has an idea, “Rub your hands together like this,” she proclaims by rubbing her palms together rapidly, “Good that’s good. Feel that heat, you are creating that. You are in control, my love.” 

Silas is sitting beside him and puts his head on his lap, ‘Actually that made one problem go away...good dog,’ he sincerely thinks as he looks at Elizabeth, ‘Wait, is she saying something?’ he wonders, as he tries to focus on her through his misting vision. 

“Now put your hand over your eyes like this,” she demonstrates by putting her hands over her eyes. Suddenly he is surrounded by a warm comforting darkness. He hears her voice, ‘It sounds close and far,’ he observes through these calm depths. 

“Breathe as slowly and fully as you can good. inhale...exhale...inhale...exhale,” Elizabeth encourages. After a time his breathing slows to a steady rhythm instead of shallow gasps. He sees Elizabeth get up and put what he thinks are her undergarments on before she shrouds herself in a white and brown long sleeved muslin dress.

“She looks radiant,’ Cal thinks bashfully. 

“Where are you going?” he asks hoarsely. 

“You said you needed to leave. I know you are leaving early so last night I asked Margaret to make some breakfast for you to have before you go. You are welcome to eat in the guest room or you are welcome to take it with you, while you are on the road,” Elizabeth politely explains. 

‘She thought of me on the morning I leave’ he thinks, with quiet admiration at Elizabeth’s thoughtfulness. 

“Will you be joining me?” he asks hopefully. 

“It’s too early for me to eat,” Elizabeth says quietly. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Cal asks with genuine concern. 

She turns her back to him as she obscurely states, “I will go warm up your breakfast. After you eat I think it’s best that you leave. I trust you know the way out. Mother said your father sent an automobile over, it should be here at five thirty.” 

He does not know how to react or what to say, ‘Why is she being so distant? I cannot recall if I said anything untoward.’ Then in the silence of the room with a dog lying down at his side for company he remembers that he yelled at her. 

When Elizabeth is in the kitchen she wraps her arms around herself after warming the food in the oven and squeezing the orange juice in a glass. ‘I am naive. I sincerely believed that he was different. Last night we made real love. I know that because what happened last night is beyond words. It is not comparable to what Samuel and I did. He was brutish and clumsy and would leave me sore and bruised. 

‘Cal awakens and electrifies me, yet words, only a few words, tarnished my view of him. I canclearly see that he is struggling with something. Maybe this week apart will give us both clarity. I do not regret last night at all, it needed to happen, all of it.’ she thinks tenderly, as she rubs her expanding skin, holding her child within. 

Cal quietly finds her in the kitchen. He does not want to leave knowing she is being distant with him. He sees she is preoccupied and does not want to make his presence known too soon. 

Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, a few tears fall down her cheeks before becoming a continuous flow. A sob escapes her throat as she is flooded by feelings of loneliness and fear. 

Cal sees her distress and stealthily wraps her in his arms. At first she covers her eyes with her hands before nuzzling her heaving breaths in his large safe shoulder that envelopes her in an oasis of calmness. 

He has no words for this somber tender moment. He holds her and conveys as much as he can that she is cherished, loved, and “I am here,” Cal breathily whispers to her. 

The sound of Cal’s strong heart beat is soothing to Elizabeth’s ears. His mysterious comforting smell of mint and something inconspicuous relaxes her. Elizabeth’s sobs steadily wane as she takes a hesitant step back, not wanting to leave his loving sanctuary and not wanting to be dependent on him either. She looks at him gratefully, “Thank you,” she says hoarsely. 

“You don’t have to thank me for holding you while you are upset, sweet pea. That’s one of my duties and pleasures. May I ask what made you so upset?” Cal asks tenderly. 

Elizabeth is quiet for a few seconds before she softly says, “It was what you said...” she starts before being interrupted by the wafting fragrance of a ready breakfast. She puts the coddled egg and brown toast with butter beside the orange juice on top of the wooden block in the kitchen. 

Cal is quite content to eat in the kitchen, it is farthest from the other rooms and is intimate, ‘It does not feel amiss.’ He patiently waits for Elizabeth to continue, “You called me a witch,” she states evenly. Cal is quietly aghast, as Elizabeth further explains, “I know you were extremely distressed. That’s not the problem, those four words brought me back to a frightening memory with Samuel.” 

“I..” he begins with his brown eyes wide with dismay. 

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. Anyway what you said was true,” Elizabeth interrupts. 

“You are a witch?” Cal asks lightly, as he starts to eat his egg. 

Elizabeth gives him a small smile and decides not to answer his question on purpose. “About being apart. As a couple we have unfolded very swiftly. Perhaps we haven’t had time to process it properly.” 

She tenderly watches the brown orbs she loves lower, and reaches for his hands that honoured and pleasured her last night, “My feelings for you haven’t changed. I am still inflamed from last night. I love you Cal. I need to know that I can breathe and think, without my thoughts always orbiting around you.”

He looks up, “You love me?” he asks, in an astonished whisper as he nibbles on his toast. ‘Only one person has ever told me she loves me and she died a long time ago.’ He gulps nervously and determines that he is unsettled with the effect that Elizabeth has on him and his lack of control. Control is very important to him. ‘She is showing me that when it comes to Elizabeth being in my life, I have no control. That scares me. The way she affects me scares me.’ 

“I am scared,” he whispers in a small voice as if he was a lost child in a far away land. 

Elizabeth shuffles her wooden stool closer, hiding a wince at the screeching sound of the wooden feet scraping on the stone floor. The brief cacophony of echoing disturbance ends as she settles next to him. She squeezes and kisses his hands. “What are you scared of darling?” she asks softly. 

Without hesitation, in a soft firm voice as if coming from a river of courage deep within, he says, looking into her eyes, “You.” 

Elizabeth is taken aback and attempts to remove her hands. He maintains a stronghold as he continues in a softer tone, “I am scared of how you affect me. Being with you makes me lose control. I forget items such as the alarm clock. I am losing control of my body, it acts on it’s own accord. Above all, I am afraid to lose you. When I was eleven my mother died in childbirth with my sister, who would have been a few years older than Rose. I want to love this child, I don’t want to see you in pain. I love you Elizabeth. I am simply becoming undone in your presence, though I do trust that I too will be renewed.” 

Elizabeth watches and admires him for being candid and present. She softly anddevotedly kisses the few tears that he releases. “I thank you for being brave, and strong.” 

‘In this moment he reminds me of an oak tree, strong, wise, and true,’ she affectionately observes. 

“If I am your sweet pea you are my oak tree. You told me what was plaguing you, even though I am the cause. A part of me can’t help but be flattered that I affect you so. That being said, I will not take advantage of that power. 

“You affect me in ways that are beyond words as well. My body is going through many changes now. I am grateful that I won’t be going through them alone. 

“As a person who is going to be a mother I don’t know what is going to happen when the birthing pains come. All I do know is that if something goes wrong,” she says, as she holds onto his hand tighter and brings it to her not yet protruding belly. “If something happens to me, I want you to raise this child with all of the love, patience, and discipline you can muster. God willing I will be there by your side. I also have much gratitude for your mother.” Cal looks at her quizzically. “She gave me you, and our lives collided perhaps when we both needed each other the most.” 

Cal can think of only one thing to do, he kisses her and not chastely either. There is a gentle pressure, ‘She has this erotic way of gently biting on my lower lip.’ His tongue slips inside her mouth. He feels her tongue teasing his, tangling together in an erotic dance that can only be felt. 

Their advancing embrace is interrupted by the clearing of a throat, “Ahem.” 

The couple separates as fast and quickly as their passionate embrace started. They turn around to find Rose smirking in the doorway. “The sound of an automobile near the entrance woke me up. I thought you ought to know,” she says. 

Cal quickly stands and tactfully swallows his orange juice in one gulp. He kisses Elizabeth on the cheek and thanks Rose. He says to Elizabeth, “I will call for you on Sunday when I return,” and makes his parting.

“I apologize for waking you,” Elizabeth greets Rose. 

“I was up for awhile. I heard some shouting. Is everything alright?” Rose asks Elizabeth as she walks up to her to inspect her for any injuries. 

“He didn’t hurt me Rose quite the opposite, we were just...experiencing a pettifog is all,” Elizabeth explains honestly. 

“Are you going to go and visit the stable?” Rose asks. 

“Yes, I imagine it would be a very uplifting activity to do.” 

“You know what the doctor said,” Rose reminds Elizabeth seriously. 

“Yes. I am well aware. I will finish clearing up these dishes before I go. You can go to bed Rosie it’s not yet past dawn.” 

“You wouldn’t mind if I came to visit the stables with you?” 

“As you wish,” Elizabeth replies, with a small smile. 

Once the dishes are put in the sink to be washed the maidens go to visit the stable, Silas happily trotting behind them.


	19. Old Friends

As Elizabeth and Rose approach the stable, ‘Everything seems simple again. There is no talk of marriage, death, engagement, and men. There is still my little one obviously, but I am not bothered. I love my baby already,’ Elizabeth reflects, reverently caressing her stomach. 

Rose notices her sister has stopped and is rubbing her stomach, “Are you feeling alright?” she asks. 

“Yes. I was just thinking how I already love this child even before it’s born and I was also thinking about how everything is so simple here, with you.” 

Rose softly smiles, “Come on. We have friends waiting for us!” she says excitedly, as she runs towards the stable like a galloping horse. 

Elizabeth catches up eventually, meandering gracefully from the field. She sees Edward, the stablehand and driver. “Edward!” Elizabeth calls. “How are they? I am sorry I haven’t come by for a few days. I had...company,” she explains. 

“That’s alright, they have been missing you. It’s good you are here now. Pardon me to ask, Elizabeth, but is there something different about you?” he asks, with his green eyes eyeing her speculatively. 

“Many things,” is her playfully vague reply. “Now I want to see one of my best friends,” she says with feigned arrogance as she leaves. 

Edward fondly shakes his head at her retreating back, remembering when he had first seen Elizabeth. 

Edward was nine when he started working with his father on the DeWitt Bukater estate. At that time there were only two horses. They have long since passed, and are buried on this land. Elizabeth’s father brought Rose to see the horses when she was little. In the distance there was another child that was following and trying not to be seen. The little girl with her father liked the horses but cried when one of the two neighed, and her father left the stable to console her. 

Edward smiles softly recalling, ‘A little while after they left, I saw the other girl walk in by herself. She calmly looked at the horses and they calmly looked at her. “That one’s name is Florentine,”  I had told her, making her jump with surprise ,  before greeting her with a bow, ‘I am Edward miss.”

Edward remembers her giggling as she introduced herself .  That was the start of many playful visits that lead to a strong friendship between the two of them as they grew up. 

Edward reminisces, ‘When I got older and Elizabeth grew up I knew I loved her. A young man like me has no chance to be with her as my wife. I can only love her from afar. 

He recalls, ‘When Elizabeth met Samuel and married him, she had told me the horses on the Berkeley estate were treated horribly. After telling me more about the condition of the horses, how their necks were covered in sores from the yokes and how poorly they were handled, we had decided to free the horses in the middle of the night. I have never felt more alive than that night. That will always be one of my favourite memories.’

Edward’s thoughts are brought to the present as he observes Elizabeth standing at the stable entrance, intently watching the horses as she grounds and centers herself before entering the sanctuary of the stable.

“My sincere apologies about hearing about the death of your husband, Elizabeth,” Edward tells her tenderly. 

Truthfully, he had never liked Samuel much, even though he had only seen him a couple of times at most. ‘There was something unnerving about him, as if there was a dormant monster inside of him.’ Edward knew Samuel had hurt Elizabeth. He had seen the bruises one early morning when he had found her brushing her horse, Fly. Seeing the purple patches that marred her beautiful skin had made him furious. He had vowed never to let her see how furious he had been.

Elizabeth silently nods and evades meeting Edward’s tender gaze, “He was the best man that he could be,” she murmurs dejectedly. 

“Good morning Beau,” Elizabeth coos softly to one of the two bay carriage horses. 

“Good morning Anzo, how are you doing? You big strong boy,” she murmurs softly. Yesterday, in the torrent of rain, a rock became wedged in his shoe, creating a small abscess because it was not promptly removed.

“He is faring well. For a sound recovery, he should wait a few days before pulling the carriage again. I spoke with your mother already,” Edward informs her.

“Yes, she told me what happened. When you first told her, she must not have been all that pleased.” 

“No, not at first,” Edward chuckles, as Elizabeth glances over to see Rose... 

Rose is visiting her horse Ophelia. “You’re so shiny and soft,” she whispers lovingly, a song springing from inside of her in this moment of calm and joy, “Come Josephine, in my flying machine, up she goes...” 

Elizabeth smiles from the other side of the stable as she hears the lighthearted tune, and makes her way to Fly’s stall thinking, ‘Now it is my turn to see one of my favourite creatures. As if she is a gift from heaven itself. Fly, my red Appaloosa mare.’ 

She cannot help but relive some her of her memories with Samuel when her fingers touch Fly’s neck and gently caress the coarse hairs of her red mane. ‘In my first month of marriage with Samuel he was nice and kind. While I felt so trapped and alone. 

‘Samuel would not let me bring any of my belongings from home with me. He was taught and raised with much discipline, and was told very strongly that women had no belongings. The only belonging was to him. I only belonged to him. Nothing from my previous life mattered. He would not even allow Silas into the house, he stayed with my mother. 

‘He allowed me to send letters once a week. He was a successful lawyer who had his office in the house. I was bored from being inside all day. My spirit needed and longed for the fresh air, to feel the wind in my hair, and the grass on my feet. I yearned for freedom. 

‘With much difficulty, caution, and very little room for error; which I knew from personal experience when escaping the inside of finishing school; and knowing that my actions had potentially dire consequences; I escaped the confines of my boxed room. 

‘Once I did manage to escape I ran as far and fast as I could with my long skirts, that were a constant reminder of my captivity in a jewelled corral. I ran home and found Edward preparing Beau and Anzo for transport.

‘I remember I asked where he was going. If he was surprised with my presence he did not share his reaction with me. For a second there was a comforting air of normality. He told me he was going to a horse sale to see if there were any horses that needed a home. I remember I asked if I could go with him. He silently opened the door of the carriage for me to enter. 

‘I remember...I remember I cried. For a single moment, I was free. 

‘Soon enough, but with not enough time having passed, we arrived at the large green field where I saw, well more heard, Fly. I heard a pained neigh and it was as if my feet knew where to take me. I was guided to the most broken, beautiful, trapped horse. I remember the weight of her head as she rested in my arms. The wave of knowingness that came over me in knowing that this is the horse for me...Fly.

‘Then a feeling of urgency came over me. I needed to get back to my husband. If he did not know already that I was gone he surely would soon. When we returned back home to the stable I told Edward to take care of Fly. I also told him to tell her this is a sanctuary for her. 

‘Samuel gave me my first of many slaps that night,’ Elizabeth’s thoughts end bitterly as a friendly voice interrupts her swirling memories. 

“Her body has healed nicely. It was ridden too hard, and pushed too far,” Edward tells her, with a soft firm voice that has an accent and no accent all at once. 

Sometimes Edward’s voice reminds Elizabeth, ‘Of a voice from many lands. He is very good at impersonations’ she thinks, with a fond smile. 

Edward’s soft tender tone turns grave, “Her mind however, is a different matter. This is the calmest she has been. Pardon me telling you this Elizabeth, she needs you as much as you need her.” 

Elizabeth knows he is right. “Do you think she can be ridden again?” 

“I have ridden her. Her spirit longs to run. Her body is still recovering. Her racing days are over.” 

“Racing days?” 

“Here, come, I will show you,” he tells her, leading her to the tack room where there is a newspaper from a couple of years ago placed open on a wooden table showing a galloping horse that has similar spots to Fly. 

“It could be,” Elizabeth muses, as a sudden truth burns from the inside of her begging to be told. “Edward,” she starts tentatively, her mind echoing, ‘I know, I know, I know, I have to tell him.’ 

“You have been....” 

“B, there you are. I am going to the house now, before mother wakes for breakfast,” Rose informs her giddily. 

Elizabeth silently nods, acknowledging Rose, “Alright. I will be there momentarily, you go on without me I will catch up,” she kindly says, and gives Rose a small smile, quietly waiting for her to leave. 

Hearing the sounds of Rose’s retreating footsteps, she takes a deep breath. ‘I have the courage now. I may not have it later or even tomorrow.’ Elizabeth looks at Edward with a spark of determination, “I need to tell you something and I would appreciate it if you would let me finish before you speak.” 

Edward silently nods. 

Elizabeth takes another deep breath before she asks him, “Do you remember that night of the deadly windstorm when I escaped to see if you and the horses needed any assistance? There was the wind, the bed, you, and we were intimate...very closely. After our evening together Samuel and I well...I am telling you all of this because I am with child Edward. I don’t know who the biological father is. 

“To top it all off I am also engaged to a man of good standing. It is not appropriate for a woman of my class to raise a child alone.” 

Edward is stunned into silence. He swallows deeply, his Adam’s apple visibly moving up and down for what seems an endless amount of time. The sound of the stabled herd chewing hay surrounds them. 

Edward’s thoughts are racing, bringing on a headache. His feelings go between being angry at Elizabeth and pitying her, “If you don’t know whose child it is then why did you tell me?!” he asks in a voice that is hushed with anger. “Why are you playing me in this way? What are you hoping for, for me to hold you close and tell you it is going to be alright? To whisk you away in a carriage like many times before? You have your gentleman for that now,” he spits out viciously like a snake. 

“No Edward, that isn’t...” 

“I love you Elizabeth. Your news made me unbelievably happy and shatters my heart at the same time. For my sake and yours I hope it’s not my child. I don’t really want it to be his either, now that I think about it. He didn’t treat you the way you deserve. Does your fiancé respect you at least?” he asks with gentle curiosity. 

Elizabeth thinks back to last night and this morning. She thinks of Cal’s light and sturdy touches. His sweet devoted kisses that she has become accustomed to in a very short period of time. She thinks about how he needs her, loves her, and wants her. Her last thought makes her blush. 

Edward does not need her to answer the question verbally, he can see the answer plainly like an ant on a bare piece of bread. “I see...” he casts his vibrant gaze downwards. “Since we’re having a candid moment I want to tell you that I love you. For some time now actually, I have been loving you from a far. I love you so much that I want you to have the freedom to be happy. And above all of this turmoil, I want to remain your friend. If that child is mine or not, I will teach it about horses,” he finishes proudly with his tan nose in the air. 

Elizabeth squeezes his hands, “Thank you kind Edward for confiding in me and being my confidant and for staying.” 

“The horses need me I can’t abandon them. Too many people have already,” he tells her softly. 

Elizabeth knows that he is not only talking about the horses. Elizabeth genially curtsies to him and calls Silas to join her as she walks back home with a much lighter heart. 

Little does she know that Rose is listening, and there will be words shared between the two sisters later on. 


	20. A Telling of Walled Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Story of past abuse. Mentions of abuse.

Rose hides in a corner of the stable, eavesdropping on Elizabeth and Edward’s shocking exchange. 

She is always careful around Edward who is ruggedly handsome with wavy black hair, ‘To-day is the longest that I have seen his hair, growing almost to his ears. And he is clean shaven, usually he grows a beard of some sort that hides his handsome oval face.’ She thinks of his golden brown skin, ‘That reminds me of the barley grass in the garden. It is strange to compare someone’s skin to dry grass,’ she ponders. As she muses about his green eyes that, ‘Remind me of sparkling green prisms that reflect the purest light. He gives me butterflies in my stomach when he smiles.’

Rose reminisces, ‘When I was younger, he would help me brush Ophelia -my Friesian horse that daddy got for me. Edward showed me how to clean her hooves. He would also help me wash Ophelia so she would be nice and clean.’ 

Now Rose realizes, with a rising rage that surfaces from a heated source within her, ‘I knew there was an affair of some sorts going on with Elizabeth and Edward.’

‘When Elizabeth was married to Samuel I wondered why there was less communication with my sister. Before she got married we would talk at least once a week. Then it became once a month at most. I remembered asking mother why Elizabeth was not writing or calling as often. Mother explained, “ _That is what sometimes happens to newlywed couples. They forget the world outside of themselves, as they are just getting to know each other._ ”

‘She told me that Elizabeth had a new family that she had to become acquainted with . I accepted that answer as the truth, even though my insides were screaming that there was something wrong. Then Elizabeth’s calls and letters became even more brief. And when we did talk Elizabeth never talked about herself.’ 

Rose reflects with renewed concern, ‘The conversation I heard, does not sound good. My sister had a love affair with the stablehand!’ 

Rose puts her pale hand over her mouth in astonishment, disregarding the speckles of dirt and sand covering her short, round manicured fingernails.

‘Cal...what is he going to say about this?’ she thinks, as flames of fury towards Elizabeth burn within her. ‘After witnessing their passionate embrace, B goes to be with another man! There is no other word for it, my older, beautiful, charming, betrothed sister, is a whore!’

When she spies Elizabeth leaving the stables she tries to see if they kiss but from her angle she cannot tell. ‘If I move I will make myself known. I need to be as inconspicuous as possible, what to do?’ she ponders, while letting her gaze wander, trying to see if an inspiration will slight from a shadowed corner. 

‘Elizabeth was always better at making herself ethereal, it is as if she wills herself to be seen and unseen all at once. It does not surprise me that Elizabeth had been able to slip away from the Berkeley estate. When I was younger I knew B would follow daddy and I, not at first mind. One characteristic of Elizabeth is she is protective of those she loves. Well so am I for that matter!’ Rose thinks with certain finality.

A voice startles her out of her scheming, “I thought you left awhile ago?”

Rose freezes mid crouch. Several thoughts fly through her mind, the most memorable being, ‘Why am I thinking about Quasimodo in this moment? And, maybe I need more practice being ethereal!’

Through her surprise she manages to compose herself and become a maiden of poise. She confronts an amused Edward who has mischief shining in his vibrant gaze, “How did you know I was here?” she asks in an astonished whisper. 

“I saw your shadow,” Edward states simply. 

“Right,” Rose comments with reddening cheeks. 

‘This is not the time for submission, Rose!’ she commands to herself. ‘This is the man who seduced my sister! My family is his employer. I am superior in this conversation.’ 

Lifting her chin up and looking down her small nose at him with her blue eyes narrowed, she tells him, “I heard everything, you know. You need to be more careful of who could be listening.” 

“I figured you were listening,” Edward tells her sincerely. 

“Did you kiss?” Rose asks in a flat tone. 

“What would make you think that?!” Edward splutters. 

“Stop being so evasive. She could be carrying your child. You need to get your act together and face the consequences,” Rose reprimands. 

“We are old friends. What happened between your sister and I awakened something in me. I can’t love her like that. I see myself as her bosom friend,” Edward tells her easily and honestly. 

Rose visibly rolls her eyes at his brashness, “You might not want to use the word bosom when you meet her fiancé,” Rose advises darkly. 

Edward audibly gulps and playfully admits, “Her fiancé. Yes, I will need to find a new word for Elizabeth then.” His playful tone suddenly turns grave, “I think you need to speak to your sister.” 

“Don’t tell me what I can and need to do!” Rose reacts.

“Pardon me miss, but you are impeding me doing my work. I do believe you need to speak with your sister.” With that being his final word Edward picks up the grooming bucket to visit Anzo.

‘The nerve,’ Rose thinks, as she swishes her long purple skirt around her turning form. 

She hears Edward’s playfully arrogant voice from the nearby stall, “Next time watch the angle of the sun!” he calls to her as she hastily retreats back to the house. Her feet stomp rhythmically on the earth as they move faster in an irate trot. 

‘Mother is not yet up.’ Rose notices as she slows to a walk and enters the quiet house. ‘I am grateful for a small blessing,’ she thinks, as she sees Margaret in the kitchen making breakfast. 

“Margaret, have you seen my sister?” Rose asks politely. 

“Yes, Miss, she came through here. I heard a door close from upstairs,” Margaret informs her while petting a wagging Silas and giving him breakfast. 

‘There could only be two places B can be,’ Rose considers. First she goes to Elizabeth’s bedroom but by the sight of the open door and a slight peak inside she knows that Elizabeth is not there. The next place that she goes is the library. She finds Elizabeth curled up in the chair that Cal was sitting in the night prior. 

Rose rolls her eyes at her sister’s dramatics. From the cool shadows that contrast with last night’s warm shadows, she lowers her tone, “I heard everything, you know.” 

Elizabeth is startled out of her dark musings and wants to open her mouth with a creative retort born on her tongue. 

Rose halts her efforts, “No. I think that you have had enough time to talk, don’t you?” Rose tells her firmly, and with some disdain, as she dramatically reveals herself from the shadows, “It is my turn to speak and I think that you are a whore. Being intimate with another man while married! I don’t care how much Samuel was horrible to you, it’s still wrong. 

“Not to mention Cal, what is he going to think? It’s already bad enough that you’re carrying his dead friend’s child! But for him to learn that there possibly could be a biological father who is alive and well, and oh wait, he is the stablehand, and not to mention also your first human friend! Elizabeth, you have really created quite a dilemma not only for yourself but for Cal also. He loves you, you know. To kiss you as he did.” 

Elizabeth is quiet and still. 

Rose’s chest is recovering from her tirade, rising and falling in a rhythm reminding her ‘of a horse running fast and true.’ For a second she wonders if Elizabeth has been sleeping all along. Rose knows she is not, ‘I can feel Elizabeth’s intensity wafting from the maroon velvet chair.’ 

The air is aflame and yet Elizabeth’s breath is moving with a smooth current, as if she is breathing waves of the ocean. In a calm tone Elizabeth compassionately tells her, “Oh Rose. There is so much you don’t know yet about life and love.” 

Rose is too ignited by pride and anger. All she hears from her sister is arrogance and pretension, “No, don’t...don’t...don’t! Don’t get all kenning and talk about morals when you don’t have any! Last time I heard infidelity was a sin.” 

Rose’s comment infuriates Elizabeth, “Did you know that to live with no sins is a sin as well? I am tired of living my life in fear. First it was father, then it was Samuel. I am trying so hard to trust Cal it’s exhausting! If I say the wrong thing, I don’t know if I will get slapped. If I share an idea, will he tell me not to speak? I don’t know if I am only there for him to look at. I don’t know if he will get so consumed by drink my breathing will cause him to bruise me, or if he will throw me on the bed and tell me to undress, only to make love to me as painfully and brutishly as possible. 

“The worst is, I don’t know if he will do all the aforementioned, and then send flowers and gifts with kind words the next day, or have the maids serve my favourite foods, or make love to me slowly and gently, so I forget all the previous grievances. All I know is that Cal makes me feel different. I know Cal is different. I have to trust myself and him.” 

When Elizabeth finishes speaking there is a ringing silence between the two sisters, “Did Samuel do all of those things to you?” Rose softly asks, her anger replaced by a slight curiosity. 

“That and more,” Elizabeth sighs tearfully. 

Rose embraces Elizabeth. As Rose lays her pale cheek on Elizabeth’s white cotton dress she murmurs, “What about Edward?” 

Elizabeth’s shoulders sag in defeat, as they continue to embrace, “You once told me that a woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets...I was so overwhelmed by the poignance I didn’t reply then. 

“I don’t believe that Rose...because secrets prevent the truth. I believe that truth finds a way to be told one way or another. This is my truth Rose, it doesn’t mean it will be yours. 

“You are going to find a love so great and pure Rosie. Someone who will ignite a new part of you from the very beginning. That doesn’t imply that your love will be easy. Perhaps the hardest part is letting him go but not letting go,” Elizabeth tells a silently perplexed Rose, who is thinking, ‘What is she talking about?’ 

“Will you tell me your truth story?” Rose asks, as if she was a little girl again. She drags Elizabeth to sit on the blanket with her and eagerly waits for her sister to tell her truth story. 

Elizabeth pats the colourful wool blanket as if she is centering and grounding herself on the quilted tapestry, plush on the stone ground. In front of a newly created fire that banishes the cold into the shadowed corners of the old stone room, Elizabeth tells her truth story. 

“When we got married, well you were there. It was the classic wedding that we have attended. Bride, bridegroom, white dress, aisle. The wedding night was the best it could be. It was my first time and I was told to expect some pain, which there was. There was also a kindling of love, like a promise of more. 

“When we celebrated our honeymoon I wanted to go out under the dark moon, when the stars were brighter, and make sweet, sweet love as if the sky was our tent and the earth was our bed. Samuel refused of course and called me a witch. He informed me we were going to Saratoga Springs in New York State in the morning and told me I needed to get my beauty sleep. He wanted me to look my best. 

“At that time he found a house for us quite close to here. It’s on the west side of the forest. There was house staff and he was in his office most of the time. Clients would come in and out. I was confined to our room unless we had guests or we went to the theatre. 

“There I could only speak when spoken to. I was weak. So weak Rose. The women would only...well you know what people talk about. It wasn’t like here where mother lets us speak plainly. 

“When his mother would come over that was the worst. She would grab my chin like this.” Elizabeth demonstrates on Rose, “Her sharp nails would mark my skin, like talons of a hooked beaked bird. She would look at me with a critical stare and say,  “ _Not with child yet, I see,_ ” and just walk off.

  
“Samuel would grab my arm, look at me and say, “ _Perhaps you aren’t pretty enough to be with child.”_

“As if that has anything to do with having a child,” Rose comments sarcastically. 

“He would also control my communications with mother and you.” Elizabeth sniffs, to keep her misting eyes from pooling. “When I was on the telephone with mother I could only talk for half an hour and one of the house staff was always listening. When I would write letters, he would ask to read it. All the stationary was in his room, and I was only allowed one letter a week. When mother came to visit a few times I wasn’t allowed to be alone with her.   
  


“I was locked in my room. There was a special key that only he and my maid had. I had to knock to be let out. When I asked why he told me that a woman in his eyes, is his property. The property that moves and breathes gets locked in until they are of use. 

“Sundays were my favourite day because it was the only day I got to go outside. He also brought me flowers.” 

“What type of flowers?” Rose asks. 

“The ones that were in season it seemed. Sometimes it was sunflowers, tulips, or roses. I would thank him and he would kiss me and say I was his to care for and protect. “ _I really care for you Ellie,_ ” he would say.   
  


“Church became my sanctuary. Do you remember when mother took us to India when father died?” 

Rose nods, “She said she wanted to get as far away as possible.” 

“Remember when I got lost?” Elizabeth asks, with a small smile. 

“Youth at that age don’t get lost sissy,” Rose says, fondly shaking her head, “We were thirteen, well you were fifteen, and you wandered away.” 

“Lost, wander, same thing,” Elizabeth says, moving her hand in the air as if erasing an image that only she can see before continuing. 

“Nevertheless, I discovered a temple. I found a place under a banyan tree and sat down. Rose, that is one of only a few times where everything felt as if I was right where I needed to be. I was calm and strong, as if I was connecting with the silent infinite. At that moment a holy man came up to me and imparted this wisdom, “ _You like? You like is right here, here is always a place of strength. When you need strength or love you come here,_ ” as he pointed to my heart center. I thanked him with my hands together in prayer and bowed to him.”   
  


“Why though, he just told you he liked you?” Rose asks, slightly perturbed.  
  


“Well, maybe. I recognized it was more that he was telling me my holy place is inside of me. I need to have calm strength. Going to church helped me to go to my holy place. I was able to practice this in my experiences with Samuel, knowing I have the power to go to that holy place whenever I feel the need to. No one can take it from me because it’s in me and I am in it, interconnected.” 

“Why go through all that pain just to have that realization though?” Rose inquires. 

“Perhaps that was the only way I could truly realize it. Maybe that was the only experience that was able to really teach me that lesson. With the pain Samuel caused me I appreciate my love for Cal even more.” 

“I don’t know B. It sounds quite preposterous,” Rose speculates. 

Elizabeth gracefully shrugs and says, “Perhaps. You know Rosie, I am not innocent in all of this. I also caused my pain and caused him to hurt me. I felt so trapped that I put something in the door lock so that it wouldn’t lock all the way. I was fortunate the maid didn’t notice the sound. That was the day I met Fly. I will tell you that story another time. 

“I got home late and he was at the front door when I returned. He slapped me. I deserved it for being so arrogant in thinking that they would not notice me gone. 

“That night we were intimate as well, come to think of it. He kept on saying how sorry he was, and to forgive him. His arms were strong and his voice was soothing. I was like clay in his fingers that were moulding me, shaping me, controlling me. 

“I knew I was trapped but this ember and longing for freedom was stronger than my fear of him. I just needed to be patient and careful. They put steel bolts on my door that night. 

“The worst times were when I had my fits. He wasn’t kind nor did he speak softly. He hit me to get me to be quiet. Time passed by months. On Sundays I would continue to get flowers. On Wednesdays it was a material gift. One night we were hosting a dinner and he even picked out my dress and outfit for me. He told me to be ready at a certain time.” 

“But sissy, you are one of the most genteel woman I know when it comes to fashion,” Rose interrupts horrified. 

“Yes. Well he didn’t think so. He was trying to control me Rose. Remember that.  Anyway that wasn’t the worst thing from that night. The meal was quite advanced and he had quite a lot to drink. When he was drunk he called me Betty. I despised being called Betty, anyway, he called me Betty and asked if I could sing. One of our guests said, “ _Betty sounds like a cow maybe she can moo for us.”  
  
_

“Then he said, “ _Quite right she’s got tits like a cow too, show them darling_ _._ ”   
  


“No...no...no...” Rose says in a frightened tone. Her body unconsciously starts to remember a haunting experience from long ago. She involuntary shudders.  
  


“Someone else said, “ _I bet my Sylvia’s are bigger. Let’s compare them take your dresses off ladies_ _._ ”   
  


“I couldn’t Rose. Sylvia started and I tried to stop her, “ _Why can’t you be more like Sylvia, Betty,_ ” he said. “ _Look at her skin so clear and smooth, she has a smaller waist than you, why can’t you be SYLVIA!_ ” he shouted in my face and slapped me harder than the first time. He shouted with spittle spraying on me, “ _WHY CAN’T YOU BE MORE LIKE HER AND DO WHAT I TELL YOU!_ ”   
  


“I told him in a whisper that was as loud as a shout, “ _You took a vow, you swore standing on sacred ground that you will love me, honour me, and cherish me!_ This , I said, gesturing between Sylvia and I, ‘ _Is not loving, honouring, and cherishing._ ’   
  


“The room was so quiet or my heartbeat was deafening, I don’t know. I know I have never been so scared though. He dismissed everybody from dinner and calmly thanked them for coming and that the staff would escort them out. He had something to deal with. 

“He hurt me that night Rose. An act that’s supposed to be a sacred union, a carnal knowledge between romantic partners. That night he took an innocence I had. He hurt me so badly the doctor had to come to see if I could still have children.” Rose looks at Elizabeth with questioning eyes, “Obviously I can have children, the doctor said I will experience greater pain than usual. Don’t worry Rosie, we have time yet. Besides doctors don’t know everything of the miraculous human body. 

“I had a plan. I needed to escape. I yearned to escape. I had a window in my bedroom and underneath the window was a wall that looked like a ladder for climbing roses, so when I could walk again.” 

“You couldn’t walk?” 

“No,” Elizabeth says, quietly shaking her head. “The doctor said it would be a wonder if I could still carry children to term and that whoever did this to me should be incarcerated. I asked him what about running, he looked at me kindly and said, “ _A little while more.”_ Where was I?”  


  
“You said, once you could walk.” 

“Oh yes. Once I could walk and run, I climbed down the wall of bloom. It was well into the night. I ran Rose, as fast and hard as I could. I ran home, that is the first time I went to see mother.” 

“She looked a fright,” a new voice adds. 

“How long were you there mother?” Elizabeth asks surprised. 

“From what he did to you at the dinner. Elizabeth if I had known...”

“You were trying to give me a future mother, one we desperately needed. I never thanked you for taking me in that night.”

“Oh, darling. It is not taking in. I missed you so. And seeing you so pale, shaking, and hurt...” Ruth’s quiet voice catches in her throat and she is unable to finish. 

“You went back?” Rose asks astonished. 

“I will ask Trudy to bring up some tea,” Ruth says, leaving the library. 

Elizabeth and Rose are both quiet as they wait for their mother to return, the room is bathed in a paused silence that is interrupted by the distant ringing of the telephone. 

When Ruth comes back she sits in one of the reading chairs. Elizabeth and Rose turn to face her creating an uneven circle. 

When everyone is silently settled Elizabeth struggles to continue, following the heavy pause, “I had to go back. However, I didn’t go back empty handed. I observed that the maid’s uniform was very similar to ours. I asked Trudy if I could have a uniform. I ran back to be there before dawn.” 

“Wait, he didn’t share a bed with you?” Rose interrupts. 

“Not if he didn’t want to. He had his study and there was a bed in there. He only came to see me usually before midnight. I was lucky that night Rose. I ran as fast to go back there as I did to get away. 

“I climbed through the window only to have him come into my room. He was nude, I was terrified. The room was dark so there was no way he could see the uniform on the chair. I was lucky I wore my nightdress. 

“We were intimate. He wanted me. He apologized and he told me that he would try, he would try to be a better man. And he wished me a happy birthday. He told me he had a gift for me. That was one of the three times he was gentle with me.

“The next morning I found myself waking up beside him for the first time since our honeymoon. You are eighteen today I remembered. I was so miserable I was not even paying attention to the days, “ _What do you want to do today? It is your birthday, we can do anything you want,_ ”  he told me.   
  


“ _Anything?_ ” I remember asking with this childlike wonder. “ _I want to go to the beach,”_ I told him.   
  


“ _The beach, that’s it? That is all you want? No dinner party, just the beach?_ ” he asked.   
  


I also asked if we could go and see my mother. I explained that she did bring me into the world on this day. He was not too pleased about that. He informed me that he would call her and told me what he wanted me to wear. Then we went on our merry way. 

“The day was full of potential and fear of what he was going to do to me if anything, I kept thinking. I was looking over my shoulder the entire time at what he was doing. The beach he chose was busy, which I was thankful for. I let myself surrender my guard and be happy. At the end of the day we came to visit mother...”

“How was it mother?” Rose asks. 

“I knew I had to be careful. He was charming but I knew there was a sinister side to him. I thanked him for letting Elizabeth come. He said that she was free in his house and she wanted to come on her accord. He told me that you were a wonderful, dutiful wife, and he was happy to have you in his life,” Ruth explains as she remembers the haunting visit and time.

Elizabeth adds upon hearing these words, “I knew. I knew then that something was wrong. When we returned to the house he put my hand on the back of my neck and pushed my face into Trudy’s uniform. I had not been conscientious enough. He bruised me and gave me my birthday present, throwing a necklace at me after dragging me into my room by my hair, saying, “ _The only way you will leave this house ever again is if you die!_ ”   
  
  


“I thought about it. I decided not to give him the satisfaction of controlling my death. 

“Some time passed. He would come visit me. Use me. And then leave. It became a somber routine. The surviving flame inside of me was extinguished and he knew it. He knew he had broken me, because he was kinder. He would let me roam the house for a short amount of time a little longer each week. 

“Every week we went to visit his parents and sisters for Sunday dinner. Often, I was angry at them. I sneaked out of their house one night and with the help of somebody we released their abused horses under the shroud of darkness. That’s why they only have an automobile now.” 

“You did that?” Rose asks, scandalized with an open mouthed smile. 

Ruth silently shakes her head and smiles a small smile at her daughter. 

Elizabeth’s smile fades, “It wasn’t until the beginning of December when he marred me again. I saw he was under the influence. When he came out of his study, he had informed me he had just lost a case. 

“Before I could react he whacked me so hard on my head I saw black spots. I hit him back. That was stupid because he just hit me harder. I know my face was bleeding.I also knew that maybe there was a way to escape. I saw a candle holder and tried to hit him in the head with it, but I missed. I lost my grip and it fell to the floor with the most horrible clang. He stepped on my arm and tried to stab the fire stoker in my hand. One of the servants made a commotion and he got distracted and walked off. I crawled to the front door and he dragged me back. Sometimes I can still feel the burning wool from the rough rug on my arms...the doorbell rang. We were supposed to have guests.

“I was locked in my room. I saw my chance. The wind was strong that night and the rain was like a thick mist. I escaped out the window. I tripped and hurt my ankle but continued to hobble as fast as I could. I also knew that this is the first place they would come to look for me. I heard a distant neigh from the stables. I went to see if the stablehand needed any help with the horses in such an onslaught of weather.” 

Elizabeth looks at Rose silently pleading her to understand. She glances warily at her mother who is intently listening. ‘This is it, the truth is going to come out,’ Elizabeth thinks with an internal sigh that somehow breaths courage from within, as if she is gathering prowess from a sacred well within her. 

“Mother, I have something to confess,” Elizabeth begins to tell her. 

Ruth’s eyes are keenly watching in a calculating silence.

“Samuel isn’t the only man I have laid with...I was intimate with...” 

“Cal. It would be of no consequence to me if you have. There will be no premature unexpected welcomes,” Ruth interrupts with an unexpected gentleness. 

“No mother, it is not Cal...I laid with Edward and I may be carrying his child.” 

Elizabeth watches her mother unflinchingly. 

“I need you to answer a question this time. When you laid with the stablehand what time of month was it, beginning, middle, end?” Ruth asks strongly. 

“Beginning,” Elizabeth replies obediently. 

“And your last monthly cycle?” Ruth prods. 

“I am not sure. Beginning of December? We were intimate during my cycle, a few days after, it stopped...I...,”Elizabeth answers hesitantly. 

Rose silently cringes at that statement, ‘I cannot imagine doing something intimate during that messy time.’ 

“Do you remember the exact date or length of time?” Ruth questions further, willing her soft voice to not rise in anger and shame. 

“No mother. No dates existed in that house or time for me,” Elizabeth reveals with a defeated sigh. 

“When did your symptoms start?” Ruth asks with a gentle curiosity. Internally she is seething at, ‘Elizabeth’s promiscuity’. 

“Afterwards Samuel and I were intimate once more. I remember about a week after that, I think it was, I started to have cramps, but no heavy bleeding. There was some blood on my bloomers but it was a minuscule amount. After I missed my January crimson tide and after Samuel became sick, my symptoms became more pronounced,” Elizabeth tells her, with clear hesitancy before finishing with unfounded surety. 

“The child is Samuel’s then,” Ruth states matter of factly. 

“How do you know?” Rose asks. 

“Because since she was experiencing her monthly cycle at that time there is a chance that Edward’s seed got expelled. I think that if the child is Edward’s, then her symptoms would have started earlier. Some women know by a few weeks and others months. Elizabeth is very sensitive though. As you said, you knew something was amiss after a week. If the child was Edward’s you probably would have experienced fatigue, nausea, everything you are now, when you were intimate with Samuel. Were you?” 

“No,” Elizabeth says vehemently. ‘I am so relieved.’ 

“Continue your truth story,” Rose demands, lightly jostling Elizabeth’s shoulder. 

“Right after we practiced carnal knowledge I stayed the night and the rest of the day for safety purposes. We were never intimate again,” Elizabeth reveals, eyeing her mother. 

“Did he...?” Ruth asks delicately. 

“No. He was gentle, good, and safe. It was a romantic moment and setting. It felt right. I wanted to know that all men are not like father and Samuel. To know that Edward is not the biological father, has greatly eased a heavy burden, and made that experience more sacred. 

“We waited until I thought it was safe to see you. You helped me once more until he came to bring me to his parents’ house.” 

“Something happened didn’t it?” Rose asks knowingly. 

“Yes, but not the way you think, Rose. We didn’t share words. It was a quiet supper. His mother asked me to accompany her to the drawing room. When I entered the staff closed the doors. 

“She had this malevolent glow around her. I knew right then and there where Samuel learned to treat me as he did. She asked me about how he treats me. I gave my reply which did not reveal anything. She stood before me and told me that when I am with child I am to birth the child on the estate. All Berkeleys have birthed their children there and how it is a tradition. It was more terrifying than it sounds. 

“Right then and there I pitied Samuel. He was not a bad man. He did bad things because he came from certain circumstances. He was raised to be controlling of women. When I realized that I realized I too was a victim of those circumstances. 

“When we got home he hurt me physically. He didn’t bring me flowers anymore. He said he was giving me another chance and this time I fully submitted. I let him, because I was a casualty of his mother’s power and any women before me who hurt his heart. 

“The night this child was created he knocked on my door. He never knocked. He came and sat beside me. He apologized. A real apology. He was paranoid that I didn’t care for him, that I only wanted his money. I was too weak to fight his fantasies. He kissed me and we initiated a bond. 

“After that night we shared three meals together. He would let me out of the room for longer than before. He was exceedingly kind and his actions made me question if the violence even happened. 

“He got hired for a high profile case in January. He rewarded us with a trip to where we went on our honeymoon. He called it a romance rekindling. I called it something else. This trip was the beginning of the end. 

“It started with a bad cough, and he would suffer horrible sweats. He was burning with fever. We needed to leave and get him medical attention. At Saratoga Springs we visited a doctor who said that it was likely pneumonia. He asked me where we lived, and I told him Philadelphia. Somehow, extraordinarily, we made it back.

“We moved out of the house. I had to discharge the staff. Samuel ordered me to keep the house. I did until he died then I put it up for sale without his parents’ knowledge. I didn’t want to live and raise my child where so much pain and torment had happened. I felt as if he was still controlling and mocking me even from death. 

“I value...he taught me to value my freedom. He gave us a second chance,” Elizabeth finishes as she rubs her sleeping child within. “He gave me a gift. To raise his child without fear and mistreatment. Instead to raise it with love, discipline, honour and patience.” 

Rose has tears in her eyes and gently envelops her sister in her arms, cherishing her presence. Ruth joins in, choosing to share in one of her rare moments of affection.

In the library, with the rising morning light, there is a cocoon of love, where walled truths fell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone, 
> 
> This was a really intense chapter to write, read, and share. It is not easy to write about abuse and even harder to experience it.  
> I will have a happier chapter soon.


	21. Mending Chances

After Elizabeth finished telling her truth story and is being enveloped her mother and sister, their loving cocoon is interrupted by the shrill ring of the brass bell, announcing breakfast.

Rose is the first to let go and depart. Elizabeth feels her mother’s touch leave her as well. Before her mother releases her tender grip, Elizabeth grabs hold of Ruth’s long pale bare fingers. She has a question that needs to be answered, “Mother, when Samuel died I missed him holding me. Is that bad?” 

“Was he holding you gently?” Ruth quietly asks. 

“Yes...sometimes.” 

“Darling. Your relationship with men is complicated and difficult...you need to know that you are safe now. You have a man in your life. A man who you will learn to trust and love. In turn he will experience the nonconformist, enchanting, resilient, prodigious woman you are. You are a wonder to behold my love. Let him have the freedom to see your light heart. 

“The past will visit in ebbs and flows. Take comfort in knowing you are right where you need to be and you are so so loved,” Ruth tells Elizabeth lovingly and tenderly.

She surprises herself with the words that flowed out of her. ‘I did not know I was capable of using such language. This feels quite out of character for me. It must have been a herb in the tea,’ Ruth quietly muses. 

Elizabeth cries and lets tears of renewal fall. She eagerly embraces her mother, “Thank you for being my mother. I do love Cal, mother,” she whispers.

“Come child, the day awaits, and you have yet to eat. You need to think of your little one,” Ruth tells her before gliding down the stairs. 

‘I have never felt better, actually,’ Elizabeth thinks, before a sudden wave of nausea overcomes her. 

“Alright, little one we will eat and rest. I need to be strong to bring you into this family and world. I will keep you safe. You focus on growing,” she murmurs to her stomach, as she kneels on the cold brown sandstone tiles of the lavatory floor before rinsing her mouth. 

When Elizabeth walks into the dining room, breakfast has already been served to her mother and Rose. “Thank you, Trudy,” she says, as Trudy places a steaming bowl of oatmeal before her. 

“Mother, do you think the Berkeleys will force me to give birth in their house?” Elizabeth asks, as she slightly squirms in her seat. 

“Sweetheart. You will be a married woman by then. You will have a new name, and a new life.” 

“Mother, I don’t want to marry someone like Samuel,” Rose states, with a slight wobble in her voice. 

“Elizabeth’s marriage was a matter of necessity. You will have more freedom. I assure you Rose.” 

“I don’t think that will be your fate, Rosie,” Elizabeth adds gently. 

“Now, we must move forward. Elizabeth, you are coming with me to the newspaper to announce your engagement.” 

“I thought that the announcement was supposed to be printed next week?” Elizabeth asks surprised. 

“He actually said sometime this week,” Rose quips. 

“Oh, I...,” Elizabeth begins.

“Do not interrupt me again Elizabeth,” Ruth states strictly. “Who said that anyway?” 

“Cal did yesterday,” Rose responds.

“A wedding is a woman’s affair. It is best that the engagement announcement goes out as soon as possible. Now may I continue with our agenda for the rest of the day?” Ruth asks rhetorically. “Rose needs to go to the dress shop and get dresses for her return to finishing school. You have been absent for long enough and are to return on Thursday. 

“Elizabeth we have the first midwife appointment on the same day, after we see Rose off. Once you girls are finished breakfast we are to depart promptly, no dallying,” Ruth announces strictly.

The rest of breakfast is eaten in calm silence. 

Rose goes to get dressed with Trudy following obediently behind her. She chooses a long sleeved green wool dress with a high necked yellow lace blouse. Her earthy assemble is accentuated with gold buttons. Trudy places a black velvet hat on top of her head. She ties Rose’s leather boots before going to help Elizabeth. 

After washing herself with a warm towel to clean herself up from the sticky residue of last night’s union, Elizabeth’s heart is light and free, ‘I am exactly where I am meant to be. I am the sum of all my choices and past actions in this moment,’ she silently contemplates, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. She intently observes the oval shaped face staring back at her. She can see the insecurity in her eyes, an insecurity that whispers of shadows and echoes of pain, ‘that can lead down a rabbit hole of insanity.’ She chooses instead, to focus on the curious shine in her eyes, ‘that I have never seen before,’ she silently observes, before leaving the lavatory to answer the light knock on the door. 

Trudy enters and Elizabeth walks to her intricately carved wardrobe to choose a ruffled white satin dress with an Irish lace overlay. There are ebony buttons gracing the front of the dress. She wears a black wool cloak with a black fur trim on top of the dress. The dress is not uncomfortable in the bust. ‘My breasts are quite tender’, she thinks, as Trudy buttons her white boots with black embellishments. 

Ruth is patiently waiting in the entrance tapping the toes of her black leather boots impatiently. She is wearing a purple long sleeved wool dress and a white lace high necked blouse with an amethyst brooch set in an intricately carved silver pin that matches the silver buttons on her dress. When she sees Elizabeth and Rose leisurely walking down the stairs, she hurriedly announces, “Time to go!” before silently nodding at Trudy to open the front door, with a slight inclination of her head, and a dip of her large purple velvet hat. 

Edward and the black automobile are patiently waiting outside. 

When they arrive in the city centre of Philadelphia Edward drops Rose at the dress shop first.

“We won’t be long Rose. See what fabrics you like. Take your time darling,” Ruth tells her, as Rose steps out of the automobile before Edward continues on to the headquarters of _The Philadelphia Inquirer.*_

When Elizabeth walks inside it looks like organized chaos to her eyes. She follows the signs to the announcement desk and rings the high pitched brass bell. 

“How can I help you?” asks the young clerk with a strong Liverpool accent, as he looks up at Elizabeth with tired eyes.

“I would like to have this engagement announcement for Elizabeth DeWitt Bukater Berkeley to Caledon Hockley printed in tomorrow’s paper, please,” she tells the clerk kindly. 

“Congratulations,” he states with a smile showing a row of crooked teeth. 

“Thank you,” Elizabeth says kindly. 

“That will be three cents,” the clerk tells her. 

She gives him the required amount, leaving with a polite, “Thank you, good day to you,” 

“You as well miss,” the clerk says. 

Ruth is patiently waiting outside, “Come, the automobile awaits,” she states. 

“Why don’t we walk mother. It’s a short stroll to the dress shop. I need the exercise. Too much sitting bothers me,” Elizabeth suggests. 

“Very well,” Ruth acquiesces, before informing Edward. 

Elizabeth amuses herself looking in the shop windows as she passes. They walk in relative silence. When they do talk quietly to each other both of them are careful not to discuss sensitive topics that are not yet public knowledge as they cross paths with other city folk.

Ruth is inspired by new ideas for wedding invitations as she passes the stationer’s window. 

When they arrive at the dress shop Ruth asks, “Have you found anything interesting Rose?” 

“I quite like this silhouette.” 

Annette who has been designing dresses for the DeWitt Bukaters for many years and is very experienced explains, “Yes, I was working on this design earlier to-day and when I saw the youngest Miss DeWitt Bukater I knew it was perfect.” 

Rose is trying on a short sleeved yellow satin dress with light blue beaded tear drop accents. 

“It’s very flattering on you Rosie,” Elizabeth tells her. 

“I need a dress for school,” Rose states, as she looks down at the mellow flowing skirt unsurely. Not even paying attention to the standing mirror in front of her. 

Annette’s lightly disguised French accent breaks through the indecisive air as she shows Rose a plain coloured light blue skirt. “I quite like this skirt with a blouse. What eez nice about these skirts is that they are interchangeable.” she further explains, “They look exquisite with any colour blouse, such as the two you have already chozen. I have a white, green and lavender colour skirt in your size already.” 

Rose nods to herself with finality, having determined her decision she announces, “Lovely! Mother we are done here. We may leave. I only need the plain coloured skirts with my blouses. The evening gown is for practicing dinners once a month.” 

“Very well. Annette that is the complete order for Rose. Now it is Elizabeth’s turn.” 

Elizabeth turns to her mother in complete surprise, “I don’t need a dress right now mother!”

“What about for when a special guest arrives?” Ruth states cunningly. 

“I have many dresses,” Elizabeth simply states. 

“Yes. However, it is important to look presentable darling,” Ruth states with a light sigh of exasperation, as if they have had this conversation on more than one occasion before. 

“As you wish mother. May I see the dress please?” Elizabeth succumbs to her mother’s influence. 

Annette nods stating, “I do have a dress that I think weel be parfait. Eet eez not quite yet finished. Eet needs to be cinched in the waist and tightened in zee chest.” 

“That won’t be necessary,” Ruth comments. 

Annette looks perplexed, her light brown eyes study Elizabeth intently, “Miss DeWitt Bukater, there is a notion called dressmaker client confidence. Your delicate condition is safe within these walls. I think that with your complexion zees colour would suit very perfectly. Eet eez alzo romantique, non?” 

“No harm in trying, I suppose,” Elizabeth says reluctantly. 

Annette disappears into the sewing room, her greying dark curls swaying with the movement of her voluptuous figure. She returns with a light pink suit and white blouse cradled in her long arms.

Shooing Ruth and Rose out of the luxurious dressing room she dresses Elizabeth in the long plain pink silk skirt and the long sleeved white lace blouse. The matching plain pink silk jacket wraps around the skirt perfectly. The final touch is a peach coloured cameo flower brooch with a gold backing. The brooch reminds Elizabeth, ‘of a flower in front of a sunset or a sunrise.’ She silently admires it as Annette places the brooch perfectly in the centre of the high collar.

Annette takes a step back and comments, eyes glittering with pride, “I zink, eet eez parfait for the ending of winter and a new beginning.”

Elizabeth turns around on the pedestal in the centre of the bright yellow room underneath a large crystal chandelier. She glides her hands over her slowly growing waist and, turning to the side she thinks, ‘It does not reveal evidence of my growing child. It is spacious enough.’ 

“Eez eet confortable?” Elizabeth hears Annette ask as she walks to the golden embellished silk curtain divide to reveal Ruth and Rose patiently waiting on the other side.

“Yes,” Elizabeth states, turning around to look at Rose who is smiling blithely.

“You should get it B. If I have to get a dress so do you,” Rose chirps. 

“Alright. Do I look alright mother?” Elizabeth asks modestly.

“You are a beauty out of a dream darling,” Ruth replies kindly before telling Annette, “We should like to buy our purchases.” 

“What about you mother, you don’t have a dress,” Rose comments jovially. 

“And I do not need one Rose,” Ruth replies rigidly.

“Yes, mother you deserve a dress as well,” Elizabeth states mirthfully. 

“Darlings, not to-day. I have enough coats, dresses, and furs, more than the both of you combined. Now, we are ready to complete our transaction,” Ruth firmly states.

Elizabeth and Rose know from her firm tone, there is no room for arguing. 

“For the evening gown, walking suit, three skirts, the lace blouse, brooch, and finally the linen blouse the total is four hundred and fifty dollars.”

Annette says in parting, “I hope you enjoy your dresses. À la prochaine.” 

“À la prochaine,” Elizabeth and Rose chime in unison as they carry their boxes. 

Edward who is dutifully waiting for them outside the shop silently, helps Elizabeth and Rose carry their boxes. He shares a soft smile with Elizabeth before Ruth orders in a hissed tone before entering the automobile, “Edward, take us to Fairmount Park.”

“The park mother?” Rose asks with slight surprise. 

Ruth replies with a small smirk, “Yes. I think some fresh air will do us all good, don’t you?” 

Rose remembers their trip to the park yesterday when they discovered the book shop. “Mother?” Rose asks with mischief in her voice, “Would it be possible to stop somewhere as we are walking?” 

“Yes, of course. I was thinking about walking around the park. And then stopping for afternoon tea before making our way home.” The automobile stops and Edward helps them depart from the stuffy interior as they assemble for their walk and continue their conversation. 

“That sounds fine mother. I would like to stop at a store as well,” Rose says, glancing at Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth is preoccupied with disturbing thoughts, ‘Something is wrong. I am experiencing cramps. Is my baby...no I cannot think like that. I need to breathe...breathe B,’ she tells herself. 

Rose can clearly see that Elizabeth is troubled with something. ‘She is looking down at her stomach and her brows are furrowed.’ She gently grasps Elizabeth’s left arm to stop her walking. 

“Elizabeth, what’s wrong?” Rose asks with concern, as she watches her sister’s face intently. 

Ruth stops walking as well, “Come Elizabeth, there is a bench here, sit down.” 

Elizabeth mechanically sits down, “Am I losing my child mother?” she whispers. 

“What makes you say such a thing?” Ruth asks calmly bewildered. 

“I am experiencing cramps,” Elizabeth quietly explains. 

“You need to breathe darling,” Ruth tells her softly, before asking, “Do you have any back pain?”

“No.” 

“Does it feel like your monthly cycle?”

“No. I don’t think so. I just feel sore. I just have not felt it so acutely. I think I need to urinate.” 

Ruth gently explains to Elizabeth, “Cramping and frequent urination are normal at this time, the doctor told you so. It will pass. Your body is going through changes. Creating and growing a living being. There will be some discomfort. You made the right decision to stop and ask. When you are in distress so is the child. 

“Now come along. Before we draw too much attention to ourselves.” 

Rose offers Elizabeth her hand playfully and they walk arm in arm to the public pay toilets.** They do not need to say words between them to have a favourable outing.

As they make their way back to their waiting mother, Elizabeth says, “I don’t like it that you will not be with us for your sixteenth birthday sissy. I have decided that we are to have a cake in your honour.” 

“Is that so?” Rose quips. 

“Quite so,” Elizabeth says, sticking her small nose playfully up in the air. 

Rose laughs at her sister’s antics. ‘How Elizabeth manages to preserve her playful spirit after all the suffering she has endured is beyond my comprehension. All I know is that I love and adore my sister. I want to be by her side forever!’

At this time during their stroll Rose recognizes the book shop, “B come. Come to the store with me.” 

Ruth is strolling ahead of them and appears not to be listening. She does not turn around to see that they stopped. 

“No Rose. I promised him I would not buy a book without his presence,” Elizabeth tells her seriously.

“Just come and take a gander with me,” Rose pleads. 

“I can’t...I can’t...I can’t break his trust, not now. Not ever really come to think of it,” Elizabeth explains to Rose and herself, saying the last part softly to herself more than to Rose. 

“He won’t even know you were here,” Rose states. 

“No. What if someone of Best Society who knows him sees us and then tells him that you were there? Then he asks if another woman was with you. I am not going to lie to him Rose...not after I gave him my word as his fiancée,” Elizabeth tells her with thinning patience. 

“Darling. I will go with you. I need to see what is so fascinating with this bookshop. Join me Rose. Elizabeth we will catch up. Continue your stroll,” Ruth intervenes. 

The DeWitt Bukaters go their separate ways. 

When Rose and Ruth enter the book shop the first thing that Rose notices is that there is a different clerk that is visibly younger than the older man. He is wearing glasses, and has plain features. ‘There is nothing eccentric about him,’ Rose observes. 

“Welcome ladies,” he greets politely. “Is there something in particular I can help you find?” he asks cordially. 

“No we are just perusing,” Ruth says in a genteel tone. 

“Very well then. Don’t let me keep you. If you need assistance, I will be behind the cash desk,” he informs them kindly and quietly. 

“Come, mother. Let us wander and glimpse at all this knowledge before us,” Rose guides her passionately. 

‘This is a very bizarre store,’ Ruth thinks. 

As Rose and Ruth are peering at books and wisened old pages Elizabeth is carrying on with her stroll in the park, in thoughtless abandon.

All is shattered when someone comes from behind her and taps her lightly on the shoulder. She starts at the handsome gentleman who reminds her of a bear, with his broad shoulders, large handsome nose, and the black fedora on his large head of what she thinks is, ‘most likely black hair underneath.’

“Excuse me, I apologize for startling you miss...?” he asks with a posh tone.

“DeWitt Bukater,” Elizabeth says, with reserve. 

“Reginald Orson. I am afraid I am lost. You see, I am not from here. I thought people here would be of assistance, but it is quite intimidating approaching one of you fine specimens. I saw you alone and thought you might be of assistance,” he explains slightly flustered. 

“I will determine if I can assist once you to tell me what it is you require of me Mr. Orson,” Elizabeth tells him.

“Quite right,” he says poshly, “I am to be at Strawberry Mansion for tea at noon and it is already five past. I keep going in circles. I think I have seen that rock three times already.”***

Elizabeth tries not to smile at his perplexity. “Well Mr. Orson, fortune shines on you to-day.” 

“Is that so?” he asks with unnerving shining black onyx eyes. 

“Yes, I am heading to Strawberry Mansion myself,” Elizabeth tells him kindly. 

“By yourself?” he questions. 

“No. My mother and sister will be joining me. They had a task that needed seeing to,” Elizabeth explains lightly. 

“Right, and they left a beauty like yourself alone,” he asks in a flat tone. 

“I am quite capable of taking care of myself Mr. Orson. To speak plainly and frankly you are making me uncomfortable,” Elizabeth tells him honestly. 

“I apologize. It is a rare sight for me to see a lady of your stature strolling unaccompanied. In England it would not be considered acceptable. Here, in America, I have seen women walk in pairs at least. I have never seen a woman walking alone before. Please forgive my uncouth behaviour, it was unnecessary.” 

Elizabeth looks at him and gracefully nods, silently walking in front of him, before he catches up to her side. She enjoys a brief serene moment filled with beautiful bird song and surrounding light chatter, before being interrupted by Reginald’s obnoxious bellowing voice, “Are you married? Betrothed?”

“You know Mr. Orson. I find peace in silence. It is one of the many reasons why I walk alone. You asked for my assistance, not my company. And, I don’t know you enough to talk to you about such things.” 

They continue their stroll in relative silence until he interrupts again to tell her, “I only ask because I am to meet a lady and was wondering if you knew her? It’s obvious you are well off. And I am quite flustered and maybe...upon good conscience...”

“What’s her name?” Elizabeth asks him in an agitated tone. 

“Sylvia Roberts,” he tells her in a steady tone. 

‘Oh fate is a cruel trickster,’ Elizabeth surmises. “I don’t know her personally. We only met a handful of times,” Elizabeth tells him. 

“What do you know about her? What does she like?” he asks eagerly. 

“Most likely what any women of our social standing likes, shiny possessions. At least she did when I met her. She likes attention too,” Elizabeth murmurs. 

“What about Emily Davenport?” he asks earnestly. 

“Are you pursuing all eligible women of Philadelphia, Mr. Orson?” 

“Reginald, please, only the ones that I know of.” 

“Do you have a list?” Elizabeth questions honestly. 

“Only a mental one I assure you. There is another name,” he pulls her arm to make her stop. 

In a cold voice Elizabeth says, “I ask that you relinquish your hold on my arm, Mr. Orson.” 

He does not let go, instead he whispers to her in a voice that reeks of smoke, “DeWitt Bukater.” 

“You are mistaken. I am engaged Mr. Orson. Release my arm now!” 

When he hears another woman’s voice he yields his grip. “Elizabeth are you alright?” 

“Yes mother. Mr. Orson, may I present my mother Ms. DeWitt Bukater. Reginald Orson had difficulty locating Strawberry Mansion.” 

Elizabeth turns towards him and directs him, “The white building straight ahead. I believe you won’t have trouble finding it. I wish you the best in your romantic pursuits.” 

“Thank you for your assistance Miss DeWitt Bukater and Ms. DeWitt Bukater,” Reginald says, bowing his head in parting. 

“Where is Rose?” Elizabeth asks, her blue eyes intently focused on his departing stiff figure. 

“She encountered a few classmates from the previous year of finishing school,” Ruth explains. 

“Keep her away from that man, mother,” Elizabeth tells her fiercely. 

“I saw his actions Elizabeth. I am aging, not blind,” Ruth retorts. 

“How was the book shop?” Elizabeth asks calmly trying to distract herself from her raging drumfire.

“Enlightening,” Ruth simply states. 

“Did you find a book?” Elizabeth lightly inquires. 

“Yes. Rose picked it out for me, it’s an ancient tale about two lovers Tristram and Isolde. It looks good to read by firelight,” Ruth surmises. 

Elizabeth fondly ponders that, ‘mother really is a romantic.’

“I am famished,” Rose comments aloud as she joins them, “Is it tea time, now?” she excitedly wonders.

“Did you find more books, Rosie?” Elizabeth asks fondly. 

“No. I haven’t started to read the ones I already have. I didn’t want to be greedy. Mother found an old tale of romance.” 

“Yes, she told me.” 

Ruth is walking ahead of the chatting pair thinking to herself, ‘what would have happened to Elizabeth if I had not intervened?’

“There was another clerk there, he was younger, mother’s age maybe a little less,” Rose divulges.

“Rosie, I think that mother is too preoccupied with trying to ensure a safe, secure, loving future for us. Any romantic musings are insignificant at the moment,” Elizabeth comments gently. 

“She deserves to be happy too sissy. You know she changed after father died. She is becoming stronger,” Rose tells her defiantly. 

Elizabeth has no reply. She continues to walk arm in arm with her sister. As they near the mansion she contemplates about opening herself to the potential of healing and, ‘if any man harms Rose, he will have to face my wrath.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The Philadelphia Inquirer is one of Philadelphia’s oldest newspapers. It was founded in 1829 where it was called The Pennsylvania Inquirer until 1859 where it got renamed The Philadelphia Inquirer. 
> 
> ** The first public toilets were introduced in 1851 at the London Crystal Palace. They flushed too. I guess men would relieve themselves in public discreetly I would hope. Women had to stay close to their homes. After 1851 I think that public toilets became popular. People had to pay to use them. I have no idea if Fairmount Park had public pay toilets at this time, so I used some creative license. 
> 
> *** There are several mansions surrounding Fairmount Park that were the summer homes to the early founders or significant people of the community. Strawberry Mansion was one of these. In 1783-1789 Judge William Lewis who was a lawyer purchased the property and called it Summerville. In 1846 it acquired the name Strawberry Mansion because there were farmers who fed visitors strawberries and cream. In 1871 - 1926 it was a popular restaurant. So it fits the timeline for this story perfectly. 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter. 
> 
> Writing again to you soon, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	22. Theatrical Refrshments

When Elizabeth, Rose, and Ruth enter the tea room the warm air envelops them. The restaurant is dainty, cozy, and stuffy at the same time. The tables have white lace tablecloths and wicker chairs with pink upholstery.

The waiter seats them beside a window that is foggy with condensation. Clear water droplets with slight rainbows in the corners of their transparent spheres drip from the ebony sill.

Elizabeth and Rose both resist the urge to trifle. They are amongst socialites and their every move is not only being watched closely by their mother, but everyone else is silently scrutinizing them as well.

Elizabeth can feel their glances and hear their whispers as if they are shouting.

“Antonella and Prudence stop that behaviour at once!” a mother loudly demands. “You do not grab each other or hit each other over food, we are not hermits.” The children then start to throw the food at their mother.

Ruth is aghast at the two girls and their mother’s behaviour. ‘The nerve coming into an establishment like this with beasts like that for children!’

Elizabeth and Rose share a small laugh, mostly at the children’s rebellious behaviour.

Elizabeth feels a small splattering of something wet hit her cheek. ‘Did my sister have the audacity? Rose cannot just win like that. I need to exact revenge,’ she schemes.

Discreetly...gracefully...and...delicately she dips her finger tips in her china tea cup. Ready and waiting for the right moment of surprise, as if she is a cat waiting to strike...a voice says, “Betty is that you?” The cup that has been waiting precariously on the edge of the table falls on her lap scalding her skin, ruining her dress and her white wool gloves before shattering on the floor.

“I am sorry for startling you. I thought I saw you come in and thought I would come and greet you to thank you for escorting Mr. Orson,” Sylvia greets politely.

Elizabeth takes a deep breath to calm her shock. She knows all eyes are on her now, “How do you do Miss Roberts...”

“Please, call me Sylvia. We met on more than one occasion with Samuel don’t you recall? Or have you dismissed the man who was in your life for months from your mind?”

Rose cannot believe the audacity of this...woman, ‘If that is what she can even be called.’

Ruth has been around many kinds of different women in her life. ‘This one is a vile sort.’

Elizabeth needs to manage herself, ‘I am the one being addressed. If no one was watching our table before, they are now. All eyes are on me. I need to be a Best Society woman who is dignified and brave. Not like this callous trollop.’

“Sylvia, I don’t imagine you have had the honour of meeting my mother and sister.”

“How do you do,” Ruth says, with a brief glove shake.

“How do you do,” Rose says haughtily.

“It was of no consequence for me to assist Mr. Orson...” Elizabeth begins before she is interrupted by the server bringing her a fresh cup of tea.

“Here is your new tea miss,” they politely say.

“Thank you kindly. I apologize for the mishap. I must have slippery fingers.”

“It’s of no trouble miss,” the server says before leaving.

Elizabeth continues, “As I was saying, it was of no consequence for me to aid Mr. Orson. He is a very charming gentleman. Although Sylvia, I would watch out for his wandering hands. You make a lovely couple. If you will excuse me I would like to go back to sipping my tea now.”

Sylvia feels a fever of intensity rise through her. She does something very scandalous and humiliating. She “Moos” at Elizabeth.

‘I would have treated Samuel so much better. He deserved better than this strumpet!’ she thinks, as she fumes, inundated by feelings of bitterness and anger. To make her day more humiliating she is removed from the mansion.

Reginald Orson, being the gentleman he is, dutifully follows her, sighing with relief, ‘there are too many women in this room for my liking anyway, it is unnerving.’ Even so, he tries to make eye contact with the DeWitt Bukaters as he passes their table but they will not meet his gaze.

Elizabeth is stunned. She knows that right now is a very important moment. How she reacts will show what kind of Best Society woman she is. She will not give the other patrons the pleasure of creating gossip from her tears. ‘I need to use everything I was taught. Feet together, back straight, head held high, eyes forward, breathe and sip, slowly and rhythmically.’ The only sign of her unease is a slight tremor in her hands.

Rose tries to reach for her sister, but Elizabeth minutely shakes her head. She knows that if her sister or mother touch her she will lose her composure and shed tears that will not abate.

Ruth is following Elizabeth’s impeccable leadership. After hearing about Elizabeth’s time with Samuel, she knows the cause of her daughter’s upset. ‘I cannot comprehend how Elizabeth did not finish finishing school, when she is behaving as a high class woman now.’ This thought leaves her quietly smirking.

“What is possibly so funny mother?” Elizabeth’s asks harshly in a low tone.

“I was trying to comprehend how a lady such as yourself, who did not finish finishing school, has better manners than a woman who did.”

Rose watches her mother delicately laugh into her tea cup. Seeing her mother laughing makes her laugh lightly as well.

Elizabeth however, is too composed and upset to laugh. She concedes to herself that, ‘It is nice to hear my mother laugh.’ A small smile comes to her face, ‘even if it is at my expense.’

“Would you like to browse our menu?” the server asks.

Ruth sobers her hidden giggle, “We will have the three ratatouilles and one curate,” she politely orders.*

“It’s nice to see you laugh, mother,” Rose says.

Elizabeth is disconnected from the conversation. The table she is sitting at disappears. Samuel is there in front of her sitting at the dinner table surrounded by strangers calling her Betty and ordering her to undress.

“No...I won’t, I won’t.” Elizabeth feels something sharp on her skin. Rose has dug her finger nails into her arm, leaving white indented marks.

Elizabeth looks at Rose and her soft blue eyes, “Stay strong B,” Rose tenderly mutters.

The ratatouilles arrive.

Elizabeth cannot taste it, “This is a waste of time mother. I should just leave. I am not enjoying myself.”

“Elizabeth, you listen to me. You can give that louse power over you for the rest of the meal, or you can rise up and be the better woman. Show that her words don’t hurt. Either way you need to compose yourself, you are being pathetic. Now let’s discuss a different matter. The date of the wedding is coming next month. We need to find you a dress, bridesmaids...” Ruth harshly mutters.

“Mother, I...can we please not talk about this here. I am feeling unwell, tired, and weak, physically and emotionally,” Elizabeth wearily states.

“You are welcome to talk Rose,” Ruth invites.

“Very well. Mother, why am I going back to finishing school in two days, when I could be helping with the wedding? Who knows, perhaps it will get me excited for my own,” Rose cunningly proposes.

Elizabeth gives her sister an encouraging smile.

“You do have a point Rose. However, your education is very important. I have actually been thinking, as you know, of sending you to university when you have finished school. The one and only reason is to find you a husband,” Ruth tells her.

Rose makes a face of disgust, “I want to go to university to learn mother, finding romance is secondary.”

“Spoken like a true scholar,” Elizabeth quips.

The three tiered stand arrives. The tiered white china plates cradled in the cast iron stand are filled with sandwiches and cakes.

“There is actually something I wanted to discuss,” Elizabeth remembers as she nibbles on a herbed scone. “Rose’s birthday is in April. We were thinking that she could celebrate it in February...”

“The fourteenth to be exact mother. A day of love, a wish for the future perhaps,” Rose interrupts looking at their mother with an excited smile.

“That is coming up soon,” Ruth stoically observes.

“I think that it is cause for celebration. I can go to finishing school once the wedding is over. It would not do for me to leave again in April, when I have been absent since the end January, all of February, and most of March,” Rose further explains with a wide, excited grin.

“You have thought this out, the both of you, clearly,” Ruth states flatly. “I think this idea has merit and we should proceed.”

“Thank you mother,” Rose says gracefully.

“Did you have any ideas for your birthday Rose?” Ruth asks.

“I haven’t thought of it much. I want to go on an adventure and explore,” Rose shares dreamily, as her eyes gaze at the misted window as if she is seeing a dreamy sky of clouds and an old city beneath a haze of vanishing mist.

“You want to go on a trip away from Philadelphia, where?” Ruth asks somewhat scandalized.

Rose thinks about tilting her angelic head from side to side, “Paris.”

“As in France?!” Ruth exclaims quietly.

“Yes, why not?”

“You know Rose,” Elizabeth interjects. “I have an idea. Let’s look at Paris like a dream. I always wanted to go to the south of France, visit La Camargue, and swim in the Mediterranean. We can do it in one year for your next birthday. No matter what’s going on in our lives we will board a ship and sail to France,” Elizabeth divulges eagerly, as if she too has seen the misted dream in the window.

Ruth looks at her daughters. She knows she cannot say no to Elizabeth’s enthusiasm and Rose’s face all aglow. “Alright, we will do it. We will go to France next year.”

“Oh, mother this is the best birthday present! Thank you!” Rose gleefully squeezes her mother’s hand.

“It’s not even your birthday yet Rosie,” Elizabeth says fondly.

“Well I look forward to it anyway,” Rose says primly.

“Will Cal be able to come?” Elizabeth asks timidly. All this excitement of travelling and exploring new lands, has made her forget about her growing one.

“Of course Elizabeth,” Ruth says softly. “Now eat your fill, we cannot let this good food go to waste.”

When they finish the tier of sandwiches and sweets Elizabeth says, “I am going to have a sleep when we arrive home. I am very weary.”

“You have been up before dawn, of course you would be,” Rose whispers.

Taking their leave of the warm confines of the restaurant they are gratefully greeted by the crisp winter air of the park again. Tracing their invisible steps they venture back to the automobile.

Elizabeth silently reflects on this day, ‘so much can happen in one day from experiencing a passionate awakening, to telling my truth story, and then a theatrical tea. Now it is time to rest.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * A curate is a what a three tiered afternoon tea is traditionally called. In America at this time in the past, afternoon tea was really only popular in the eastern part of the country like Pennsylvania and New York, because of people’s desire to be independent from British influence. 
> 
> However, it was popular amongst the high class women. I have no idea if Strawberry Mansion served afternoon tea in the restaurant, so I had some room to be creative.
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter and I will be writing again soon, 
> 
> Until then, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	23. Ideally Rich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the character Spicer Lovejoy he belongs to James Cameron and Paramount Pictures.

Cal left the warm stone house shivering at the nipping cold of the early morning air, his lips still tingling from the heated passionate embrace with Elizabeth only a few moments prior.

He can barely discern the burly figure of Lovejoy, his valet, through the morning mist as he waits patiently by the red automobile. ‘Father hired Lovejoy to keep me out of trouble. 

‘Lovejoy, the name that does not befit the man. He has never spoken to me of love and I have never seen him be joyful. 

‘Elizabeth would probably see him differently. She has a gift. She sees the best in people, even after they are brutal, callous, and have inflicted all kinds of pain upon her. And yet she still found her way to me,’ Cal thinks, as his thoughts switch from the realm of love into the realm of business. 

“Did you bring the safe?” he asks Lovejoy. 

“It’s in the back as usual,” is Lovejoy’s routine reply, as he seats himself behind the steering wheel of the chilly vehicle.

“Excellent,” Cal acknowledges, carefully tucking himself into the remaining space of the front seat.

“Looking forward to visiting the mill are we?” Lovejoy asks, as he starts the loud engine, and the slow roll to the mill begins.

“I suppose.” 

“You don’t have to be so vague. Your father told me about the engagement...I hear a congratulations are in order.” 

“Thank you.” 

The two men spend most of the time in comfortable silence.

Spicer Lovejoy is a man of strategic action. He was a private investigator in London, before he retired, and worked for the police patrol in America. When he retired from that job he was hired as the valet and bodyguard for Nathan Hockley’s son, Caledon. ‘When Caledon was seventeen and started to visit the rattier parts of Philadelphia where the mills are at night, my lone task was to make sure that he still had his wallet at the end of the evening.

‘I can see right through Caledon. As a man of his raised circumstances everything is about money’, he muses as Cal sits quietly beside him. 

“She seems well off by her living situation,” Lovejoy observes. 

“She is in some ways,” Cal replies distractedly, his thoughts drifting to the Samuel he thought he knew.

‘Samuel was the kind of man who liked to have fun with people he was familiar with. He waltzed with his sisters. He was a good lawyer. I would hire him for legal matters and advising. 

‘It is difficult for me to visualize Samuel as someone who hurt his wife. I had never met Elizabeth before his death, oddly. I do not doubt that Elizabeth is telling the truth,’ Cal determines.

“It sounds so outlandish it has to be true,” he mutters.

“What was that?” Lovejoy asks. 

“Nothing,” Cal says quickly, looking at Lovejoy with a sheepish smile. 

As they leave the estate part of the city and drive northeast Lovejoy states, “I have never liked women.”

Cal looks at him with hidden annoyance flashing through his sparkling brown gaze, choosing to stay silent as the aloof man continues, “They change men. Make them weak. Make men lose control with their seductive ways.” 

“Did my father tell you to say that?” 

“No, it would seem like it though. She has changed you, I can see it.”

“For the better I hope.” 

“At first maybe, then they want more from you. More and more until there’s nothing else you can give that makes them happy. But I am sure your woman isn’t like that.” 

“No she isn’t.” 

“Yet.” 

“Have you ever experienced love, Lovejoy?” 

“Love makes you weak. Love makes you lose control. There’s no luck with love.” 

‘There is that word again luck. The one word I was raised with, “ _A man makes his own luck Caledon,”_ father would say, over and over, a motto in my family. I never knew what mother thought of luck. What might Elizabeth think of luck?’ Cal ponders. 

“You can sleep, you look tired,” Lovejoy tells him with his signature smirk. 

“No. I am going to the mill. I am the owner’s son and in charge of the foreman and supervisors. I don’t want to sleep,” Cal emphasizes through his nausea.

‘I did not get enough sleep. Maybe if I just close my eyes for a moment,’ he contemplates drowsily.

Lovejoy briefly looks over to see Cal sleeping. ‘The man can be such a child.’ 

“Your woman doesn’t know what she is in for being married to you,” Lovejoy mumbles. Little does he know how wrong he is.

Cal wakes up as the automobile slows down “Are we there?” he asks sleep gruntled. 

“Soon. Would you like me to stop directly in front of your apartment or at the mill?”

“The apartment. I need to unload and look presentable.” 

“Very well.” 

A comfortable quiet settles between them amidst the cacophony of the loud motor, a gassy engine emitting rancid smelling exhaust.

‘This is good,’ Cal thinks as the light clouds are replaced by thickening grey smoke. 

‘This routine is familiar. I am in control here. There is no wedding, engagement, Elizabeth, or child to consider.’ 

He can see the silhouette of his servant in the apartment. She was originally hired to work in his father’s house in Pittsburg, but now works for him in his apartment on the way to the mill.

As he walks toward the building he notes to himself that this modest apartment, ‘is nothing grand. There is a kitchen with servant’s quarters, a dining room, a lavatory, a bedroom, and a study. It is no more or less than the basics that the workers, supervisors, and foremen who live in the poor area of the city have. Our competitors give their workers worse housing, if they even give them any.’ 

He turns up his nose at the sight of the gaudy brick building, nothing compared to the large townhouse where he lives in the middle of the city. But he admits, ‘It is important that the workers see that I am approachable and that they can build a rapport with me. As father says, “ _It is all about appearances and money_.”

‘Elizabeth probably would find something about this dismal place to be charming. No. It will not do to think about her now, especially not here.’ 

As he opens the large steel doors of the apartment a vision invades his mind.

_Dusk is falling. The moon is rising from behind a stone house. As he approaches he can see her long dark hair, her blue eyes welcoming him. Elizabeth is wearing a white dress with a brown apron. There is a small child in her arms, and her belly is ripe with child. His child. He looks at her again, her face, and sees that she has some flour on her nose and cheeks. It is as if she has been dusted with a light layer of stardust. He is enveloped in this moment only to come to the voice of someone saying…_

_“._..kley, Hockley, Mr. Hockley, ahh, there you are. There are great things expected of you. The men can’t be seeing you standing dazed in the hallway now, can they?” Lovejoy tells him in stoic humour. 

Cal silently walks down the musty hall with stained red carpets following Lovejoy. His servant answers the door, “How do you do sir, I just heated the water for tea. I will serve it in your study,” she greets politely.

Cal does not say anything. He walks past her to his study in a daze and sits in his large oak engraved chair with red upholstery. He is profoundly affected by his vision. He wants to be mad at Elizabeth for being here with him. ‘However, I cannot. I am aroused by the possibility of this future.’ He lets his head fall with a dull echoing ‘thud’ on his desk. 

‘How am I supposed to focus on work, when she is tormenting my thoughts?’

He picks up his black desk telephone with a brass eagle motif carved on the base and dials. It rings two times before being picked up, “Hello operator, I would like to telephone the DeWitt Bukater estate in Philadelphia. For future reference what is their number? DeWitt 2444, thank you.”*

He waits for a few minutes through the dark silence before he hears a welcoming, 

“Hello.” 

“Hello, may I speak to Elizabeth?” he asks politely. 

“The DeWitt Bukaters are currently occupied at this moment. You’re welcome to call back later.” 

“I will,” and hangs up the phone.

He clasps his hands in front of his mouth, ‘I am being tormented.’

To rein in his tormenting thoughts he starts working, reading the newspaper, and sipping tea that was once hot.

It is nearing mid afternoon when he tries the DeWitt Bukaters again, “Hello, may I speak to Elizabeth?” 

“May I ask who it is I am speaking to?” Trudy queries.

He is close to losing his temper. He feels the rising heat inside, as if there are bubbles in his blood. “Hockley, Caledon Hockley. Her fiancé.”

He listens to the distorted quiet on the line until he hears… “Hello Cal, this is Ruth.” 

“Hello Ruth, could I please speak to Elizabeth?” 

“I would prefer if you didn’t. She is resting now. She had a very trying day, and Rose said that she was up before dawn. Need I remind you Cal that she is in delicate condition. Therefore, it would not be in her best interest to be woken up now.” 

“Is she alright?” 

“Nothing a good sleep, a bath, and a meal cannot remedy. I will tell her that you called.”

“Inform her that I arrived safely and I hope she has a satisfying lie down.” 

“I will, goodby.” 

“Goodby.” 

He is mildly concerned now. He knows there is not much he can do from his location. ‘I need to focus on my work now, if only not to think of her,’ he concludes with a new found focus. 

Just as he has starts putting his pen to paper and making the comforting scratching sounds of the rough tip on smooth parchment there is a soft knock from the other side of his closed wooden door.

“Come in,” he sighs as he rubs his head, and pinches the bridge of his straight nose. 

“Are you feeling unwell Mr. Hockley? Perhaps a nice bath will ease your troubles,” his servant quietly suggests.

“If you must.” 

‘I am not going to give her the satisfaction of saying, thank you,’ he grumbles to himself. 

“Right away then, sir.” 

Looking out his study window he has an idea.

“Sir your bath is ready,” his servant interrupts gently. 

He silently nods before requesting, “Can you find me the number to contact the best florist?” 

“Yes, of course,” she says dutifully.

Cal leaves his study for the lavatory where his steaming bath is waiting. The smoking tendrils of steam look like beckoning hands. ‘Elizabeth’s hands.’

When he submerges himself into the hot water, his mind wanders to last night’s union ‘how that was going to be the first of many.’

He visualizes the soft curves of Elizabeth’s body and ‘how I want to explore more of her. I am overwhelmed by her haunting presence,’ he realizes as he reaches down to feel his body yearning for her touch.

‘To relieve me of the current discomfort of arousal,’ he thinks, as his fingers stroke his sheath.

He imagines he can feel her behind him, her hot breath coming out in mewling pants.

‘I can feel the heat of her breath as she sniffs my neck before flicking her tongue out like a snake. I can feel her tongue caressing my earlobe teasingly, as she whispers my name longingly as if her breath is a warm wind on a heated day.

‘Her soft hands on my torso embrace me from behind as they leave a heated trail all the way down to my manhood where I am enveloped. One of her strong hands is on my sheath stroking me with a hidden rhythm that matches the strokes of her other hand in my hair. Her fingers pulse with life as they scrape my scalp. And I can...’ he begins to think, before he feels his body release.

He looks down to see that the clear water has now become murky with his seed. ‘It reminds me of a cloud,’ he thinks, through a fog of pleasure, realizing, ‘I have completed my ministrations.’ 

Getting out of the bath he looks at the reflection of his tall dripping frame in all its glory. He sees there is a bruise on his left shoulder that resembles bite marks, ‘Something my shirt will not have trouble hiding. A gift from my enchanting vixen,’ he decides. 

There is a knock on the door. “Mr. Hockley I found the contact information for the florist you requested,” his servant’s timid voice distantly calls through the closed door.

“I will be right there,” he tells her, debating with himself, ‘do I thank her?...I know what to do.’ 

“Your assistance has been of great help to me,” he attempts, as he opens the door. 

‘That is as close as I am going to get to saying thank you,’ he vows, walking to his bedroom in his plush white robe, leaving his servant’s gaze fixed on his tall back, her large brown doe eyes wide in astonishment. 

He dons a fresh pressed white shirt, a pair of black trousers with white suspenders, and black socks and shoes.

Returning to the study he finds the florist’s number scratched on a notepaper and without delay, dials the number, waiting for the distant ring to be answered.

“Hello, I would like to place an order for delivery... Most excellent... A dozen white roses and six lavender stems... Yes, in one bouquet... A note, yes.. _. May these flowers bring you some comfort while I am away. Thinking of you, Cal. P.S. If you like you can telephone me at Hockley 1721_... I would like them delivered to the DeWitt Bukater estate at the very end of Seminole Street...I would like them to be delivered before she awakes in the morning, between seven and eight o’clock tomorrow... Good day to you.” 

‘Now that that is done, I can see to business.’ Cal resolves with deep relief.

He settles at his desk until late afternoon, going over the reports from the supervisors and reviewing the affairs of the mill, barely pausing to drink coffee and to eat a sardine and cream cheese sandwich with a creamy parsnip soup for lunch.

Once evening starts to fall, Cal asks the servant to arrange for Fortuna and the carriage to be readied. 

‘My favourite part about coming to the mill is seeing Fortuna, my horse, my black beauty with the star marking on her forehead,’ he silently admires.

Walking to the carriage house he acknowledges, ‘this is not the right place for a beauty like her. She needs to be in a stable with a green pasture.’

“My lucky star,” Cal murmurs as he nears her stall. 

“I was just going to prepare her for carriage sir. I didn’t get your communication,” the stablehand tells him apologetically.

Maybe it is just Fortuna’s presence that soothes him or perhaps that he had taken care of himself, or maybe the fact that he had sent Elizabeth flowers. Regardless, Cal is in a much more forgiving mood.

“It’s quite alright, do not fuss. I just wanted to see her beforehand.” 

“Very well, sir. If you give me a few minutes I will have her yoked to the carriage for your transport sir,” the stablehand shyly offers with his blue eyes downcast.

“That’s fine Brauley,” Cal accepts distantly, his eyes lost in Fortuna’s deep gaze and his hands smoothing her glistening black coat.

Once Brauley has prepared Fortuna and she is harnessed and attached to the carriage safely Cal boards the carriage and makes his way towards the mill. 

The workers see the carriage before Cal can make his appearance, “The boss’s son is here men, be on your best now,” one of the supervisors announces.

There is a murmuring that echoes in the crowd like a cresting wave going down the length of a beach. The men have a feared respect for the Hockley son. He is quick to anger. He likes to give orders, and pass on work to others. Yet they can see that he has the workings of being a good leader and future owner of the steel mill. 

“Right, you there. I need you to gather any men who aren’t doing dangerous work,” Cal orders. 

“An’ so it begins,” one man sighs under his breath. 

“I need to meet with the supervisors in the warehouse promptly. Alright, back to work!” Cal announces with surety. 

“Wha’ he thought tha’ we woo’ tree’ hi’m li’ a kin’ o’r s’omen,’” a man grumbles.

Unfortunately Cal hears this man’s comment and says, “You there, come with me!”

Cal leads the quarrelsome man to the board room.

“I heard you make a comment about me, behind my back. If you have a problem with how I run things around here you can find a new job elsewhere. Although I don’t think that anybody would hire the likes of you. A pathetic excuse of a human being with your miserable accent. How long have you been working here?” 

“Twenty years sir,” the man states trying to disguise his thick Scottish accent. 

“Would you say that the men respect you?” Cal questions cryptically. 

“I thin’ so,” the man replies honestly. 

“No! A man who has respect from the people knows that he has their respect. He doesn’t think,” Cal states emphatically.

“R ye goin’ to dismi’ me sir?” the man asks hesitantly. 

“No,” Cal tells him. 

“R ye goin to kill me?” he asks tentatively.

Cal laughs lightly as he tells him, “No. I would like for you to join me for dinner in my apartment tonight. If that would be acceptable to you. There is no dress code and bring your family, Abe.” 

“Wha li’ me wife and kid?” Abe asks confounded. 

“I have to meet with the supervisors. You get back to work,” Cal tells him as he leaves the boardroom. 

Abe follows Cal’s strutting shadow until someone stops him by asking, “Abe what did the steel prince want with you?” 

“He invit’e me to dinner tol’ me to brim’ me wife an’ kid,” Abe explains with his dark grey eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. 

“Are you...don’t be a fool Abe, he’s going to put you in the dungeon or something.”

“I don’ thin’ he has a dungeon, Joe.” 

“If anybody had a dungeon it would be him. Probably sleeps in a coffin too. He takes women and sips their blood after he’s finished doing God knows what to them,” Joe states, wrinkling his freckled nose in disgust. 

“You’re disgu’t’n,’” Abe honestly tells him. 

“I am right, is what I am,” Joe says, as he nods to himself with finality. 

“He seemed diffrun’ somehow,” Abe quietly observes. 

“Probably just had a feed,” Joe says hauntingly, as his bony shoulders shudder.

The two men descend into a focused silence, intently working while the noise of the steel on the factory belt reverberates through their bodies.

~

Cal climbs up the hard steel stairs with a confident stride, taking in the sensations of being back at the mill. Being back in the stomach of a beast of fire and smoke. A beast who creates and destroys. A beast who is fed by the hands of men.

He speaks into the megaphone, “Cease all work immediately! All foreman and supervisors come to the boardroom. Considering this meeting, all workers are dismissed from your work duties for the day. Be here one hour early tomorrow!” 

The boardroom has plain dark walls, dark wood floors, and a large oak table in the centre, where Cal waits as the men start to trickle in. He is standing authoritatively with his hands clasped behind his back, tracing the light callouses on the underside of his fingers and palm.

He waits to speak until all the men that he needs to be there are present.

“I am going to get right to the point. I need to make a few changes around here. My father and I are opening more steel mills around the country. I need men who I can trust to lead our operations here and who are respected amongst the ranks. I will still be coming here every now and then, just not as frequently. I don’t want this mill to lose its profitable success while I am absent.

“Now, my father and I discussed certain changes. Because all of you, including the workers, will be more active in the role of managing the mill and processing customers orders, we’re going to give everyone a raise of three percent.” 

The men are quietly perplexed. Some are looking to each other for confirmation that they heard right.

“Now, there will also be changes in positions...” Cal begins. 

“Will you be letting us go sir?” someone interrupts. 

“Don’t interrupt me again Mr. Jenkins,” Cal says, with a warning tone in his voice before he continues, “And no, Mr. Jenkins no one will be let go. You have all been too valuable for the financial success of this mill to just be let go of. On the contrary, there will be promotions. 

“Right now there is only one of me. I am going to appoint someone who I believe has the experience and respect to lead this company with your cooperation and support. 

“Those of you who are supervisors will become his acting advisors. Help him know everything that is happening from squabbles to financial inconsistencies. Foremen of present, you will be promoted to supervisors, and the workers that have been here the longest will be the new foremen. There’ll be an adjustment period where the future foremen will need to be appointed and trained. I will go through all of their documentation with your assistance. We’ll meet and discuss their competency for the new positions. Any questions?” 

There was a pause before someone said, “Who will be your appointed replacement?” 

“That will be revealed in due time,” Cal politely replies. 

“Will you never return?” 

“No, Robert I will return. I won’t be here as frequently. I know that during my past absence you needed to take more responsibility and that wasn’t delegated responsibly nor rewarded fairly. I am trying to make amends for that.” 

“I have a question about wages, sir? 

“Go on Harry,” Cal encourages with a firm nod of his dark head of slicked back hair.

“Well it seems to me, not to sound not honoured sir about our raise. It seems to me, we will be given more responsibility, but not paid enough. The work will be more demanding and the pay...well might not be enough to make the work worth,” Harry bravely expresses.

“I hear what you are saying and as I mentioned this is a new venture, we are trying something new. If a number of you are not satisfied with the compensation for that matter, we’ll increase it, if it seems feasible. We’re going to have to be patient with ourselves, me included, as we go through these changes of responsibility,” Cal authoritatively states.

Cal discreetly shifts on his feet as if he is readying himself for a pivotal jaunt.

“If there’s no more questions and before you are dismissed for this evening.” he begins, “I have something to tell all of you, that you can relay to the workers. It has been told to me that it’s only proper that I learn how to thank the people that serve me,” he smiles softly and fondly as he thinks of Elizabeth. “I recognize that my father and I pay you and provide accommodation for you and your families. However, I also want to thank you for your dedication, time, and loyalty to each other, the mill, and me. I know I am not the easiest person to work for. I thank you for serving this company and making it as successful as it is. 

“Now, if you have any more questions or any concerns about what has been discussed to-day please don’t refrain from asking me for clarification. If it’s an urgent matter you can come to my apartment. My servant will answer the door and I will be meet you shortly thereafter. Alright be gone all of you.”

Cal chuckles to himself as he reflects on his impending metamorphoses, ‘a part of me does not mind. I know it is more difficult struggling against this metamorphosis than it is to simply follow my ambition to realize my highest internal potential. I know I can be rich. Ideally rich in body, mind, and pocket.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * It was fascinating for me to learn about the history of telephone numbers because the system was so different from today...obviously. This history was a little bit difficult for me to understand so I will do my best to summarize it for you. 
> 
> The telephone was invented in 1876 by Alexander Graham Bell and at that time the system was very different compared to 1910 when it was changed. The switchboard was improved on in 1910 so from my understanding people did not need to call the operator all the time just when they needed to, for example like Cal did because he did not know Elizabeth’s number. 
> 
> Also it was considered difficult to memorize a 7 digit number so that is why there are words that would be assigned. For this story I used DeWitt which would translate to DeWitt or otherwise 339-2444 (DEW translating to 339) which would be today’s number. Anyway that is a brief description of phone numbers that I just wanted to share with you. 
> 
> \- 
> 
> I am interested to hear any of your thoughts or feelings about the story so far and it would be encouraging for me to read your comments even the constructive ones. If there is anything that I can improve on or even what you really loved or hated or if and even when you thought meh. 
> 
> Any reactions that you had that you want to share with me would be wonderful so I can connect with you as readers. All that being said ultimately I appreciate all of your support in anyway you choose give it. It would just be nice for me to read your comments. 
> 
> Delving into the past from the future. 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	24. Gentlemanly Honour

The men leave the meeting in the boardroom huddling together as they walk down the dark hallway, the sound of their multiple shoes marching on the steel stairs echoing a metallic cry as they are mumbling amongst themselves in various dialects, “Did you hear what he said?” 

“Must be a woman.”

“Three percent?!”

“He has a servant?!” 

Upon returning to their abodes the men that have romantic partners arrive to work much happier the next morning. 

~

In Abe’s abode, fussing with himself as he stares at his reflection in the cracked mirror, he asks his beautiful golden haired wife whose brown eyes intently stare at his quaffed speckled hair, “How do I look?”

To some people’s ears Abe sounds inferior. He is a handsome man of short stature with strong cheek bones and a defined jawline. Some people would say that he has a symmetrical face and a straight nose despite it being broken once.

His hair is speckled grey but, ‘opposin’ change is more difficult than acceptin’ it,’ he thinks.

He lovingly turns to his wife, his dark eyes alight as he endearingly gazes at her large round curved form that is leaning against the brick doorway, “Mary, are ye almost ready?” 

“Yes darling. It’s best that you go alone,” she tells him in a light Scottish English accent as she meticulously breathes. 

“Bu’ darlin’, I nee’ ye the’ by me si,’” Abe tells her earnestly, with a hoarse voice that is gruff with the grime and smoke from the mill.

“Yes, well darling I’m afraid that being heavy with child has its limits when it comes to clothing. Especially for the owner of the company. It’s best that you take Pearl with you if this bairn chooses to come to-night,” she kindly explains as she holds back a wince. 

“R ye experien’ pains?” he asks concerned. 

“Since early this afternoon, they have just gotten stronger now. I will go see Catherine, she will know what do. She did deliver Pearl after all,” Mary calmly reassures him once her body finishes a bout of clenching. She almost sags with relief.

“Aye, tha’ shee di.”

“Don’t worry darling, you know you don’t do well with all of the groaning and crying. Remember Pearl, go,” Mary encourages him with a knowing smile.

As they are walking to their front door Mary can see Abe’s transparent hesitation and smiles softly to herself, ‘I know what to do to make my stubborn husband be on his way,’ she thinks.

She calmly tells him, “If this baby chooses to come to-night I will be better off knowing that you were providing for our family.” 

“Alri’ I willna stay long jus’ see wha’ he wans’ and com ba’. I love ye.” They share a chaste kiss and Abe lovingly watches his beloved wife waddle down the street, as he holds onto his little urchin’s hand.

~

Cal returns to his apartment and asks the maid to prepare a four course dinner. She cooks a sweet potato stew, bruschetta with freshly baked bread, a rabbit pie with roasted vegetables, and finally a salted dark chocolate torte for dessert. 

He chooses to stay in his work clothes, ‘I do not want to flaunt my wealth in front of my men,’ he thinks admirably, as the doorbell rings. 

Anne, Cal’s servant, answers the door and receives a man of short stature with quaffed dark greying hair. ‘Then again most people are not as tall as Caledon Hockley,’ Anne thinks, as a blush tints her olive skinned cheeks.

Her brown gaze wanders down to the small girl holding his left hand who is wearing a light blue apron and a dark blue dress. ‘She seems to be maybe two or three years old,’ Anne silently guesses.

“Come in Abe, your wife didn’t accompany you I see,” Cal says from behind Anne as he greets his guests of honour this evening. 

“No she coudna’ ‘er pains starte’d. She toulda’ me to sup’por r family by com’en ear,” Abe tells him hurriedly. 

Cal feels a light tug on his black pant leg. He looks down and sees a little girl with bright blue eyes and blond curly hair. She waves her small hand for him to kneel down. He obliges her unspoken request, in a voice that sounds like chiming bells she tells him, “Ma ha babe.” 

“You are to be a big sister then, a cause worth celebrating,” Cal gently tells the little cherub. 

“I am no ‘ungry, I ken ye woulda’ ike to celeb’rat but I re’lle wan’ toe b wi’ me wife,” Abe tells him honestly. 

Cal understands, “It’s alright. I just wanted to inform you that you will be getting a raise of three percent.”

In contrast to the men at the mill who left excitedly, Abe has no reaction to this news, just a blank look on his handsome face, as if he did not hear the news at all. Cal knows Abe’s mind is too occupied with thoughts of his wife to comprehend anything else. ‘I will ask him some other time this week,’ he decides.

In a small voice, as if he is losing his dignity, Abe conveys to Cal, “Can I ask ye to do somethin’?” 

While still kneeling beside the young girl Cal silently nods for Abe to continue.

“Can ye watch Pearl while I am wi’ me wife and wee bairn?” 

“Of course, Pearl and I can feast together. You can be a princess until your father returns,” Cal tells Pearl while he is kneeling down. 

“Pwincess Peawl,” Pearl breathily whispers. 

“Princess Pearl,” Cal confirms softly before standing up to his tall height, unaware that he has slightly scared the little girl.

He playfully says, “Now it won’t do for a princess to go hungry. Miss Anne has created a feast just for her highness.” 

Abe can see that his daughter is in good hands. He quietly takes his leave to go see his wife and how she is faring. 

~

Pearl has never had a feast before, however she does know one thing. “No call pwincess!” she demands. 

Anne looks at the little girl with her bright doe brown eyes wide with surprise. She glances warily at Cal, fearing his reaction, ‘she has no idea who she is talking to,’ Anne thinks, with a rising fear in her belly as a hollow silence prevails in the apartment. 

Cal hears the little girl’s request. He kindly turns around and gently asks her with genuine curiosity, “Why not?” 

Pearl simply shakes her head as she thinks, ‘da call me Princess in mean voice, I no no how tell tall man.’

Cal can see that he will not get his question answered so he chooses to ask a new question, “What would you like me to call you?” 

Pearl looks intently in Cal’s eyes and simply says in a soft clear voice, “Peawl.”

“Very well then Pearl,” Cal tells her, with a charming smile, as she follows him to the dining room table.

Anne carries to the table a small plain coloured speckled pottery bowl filled with bruschetta and a wicker basket full of freshly baked thin slices of bread. She presents the hors d’ouvres of the evening by name only to be interrupted by a petulant whine, “I no eat haiwbwsh.” 

“It’s not a hairbrush. It’s tomatoes minced with herbs,” Anne tells her kindly. 

“I no ick,” is the simple retort. 

“You haven’t even tried it, how can you know?” Cal asks with a curious gentleness. 

“Wed,” Pearl states, as if it is the most obvious answer in the world. 

“How about some soup?” Anne suggests, as she serves the sweet potato stew in small bowls. 

Pearl likes this soup very much. “I wan mow,” she demands, licking her tiny lips before wiping her hand across her orange mouth. 

Anne serves the rabbit pie. 

“Wha?” Pearl says poking at the ground meat under a thin layer of dough. 

“Don’t poke your meat. It’s rabbit, you eat it with your fork,” Cal tells her as he crinkles his straight nose in disgust at her abysmal table manners.

“Her face is now orange and she is poking her meat. What did I get myself into this evening?” he mutters, as Pearl starts smashing and mashing her meat before eating the white mush. 

Cal resists rolling his eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. ‘This child is giving me a headache. I need a cigarette and a brandy.’ 

Pearl does not like her meat much at all considering it is too chewy and slimy. She spits it out on her plate, instead of using her serviette.

Cal is disgusted with this behaviour and himself, ‘I told her father that she could stay here,’ he thinks despairingly. 

“Perhaps some plain pasta would be best for the child,” he tells Anne, as he gets up to leave the table. 

“May I add butter and sage?” Anne asks timidly.

“Excuse me,” Cal states, not even bothering to answer the question.

He retreats to his study. When he pours himself a brandy from his steel decanter he looks out the window at the factory below. He quietly sips on his brandy and smokes his cigarette. His brooding silence envelopes his study. Only the ticking sounds of the clock can be heard. “How long does it take for a baby to be born anyway?” he mutters to the surrounding walls, as he hears light chatter from the dining room. 

~

Pearl likes the cook, ‘she nice and she like ma. I want...’

“Mama,” she chirps in a tearful voice. 

“Oh darling, it’s alright, you are safe here,” Anne coos. 

“Ma,” Pearl cries, as tears start cascading down her soft cheeks. 

“Just think though that you will have a brother or sister to play with. Not right away mind, soon enough though,” Anne consoles gently. 

Cal can clearly hear Pearl’s cries through the thin walls. He wants to ignore them and continue his brooding session. ‘Alas, I am the man of this factory and I need to be in charge,’ he commands to himself as he briskly opens the door.

His hasty entrance and impending disciplinary action catch on his tongue when he sees the young child crying. He is reminded of the first time he met Elizabeth at the Berkeley estate, when she was dancing with Alice, ‘wearing my top hat. Even in this moment she is in my midst.’

He carefully and gracefully approaches Pearl. When he nears he clears his throat as he silently contemplates on his next action. He looks at her with a playful gaze.

‘Above all, I am a gentleman and my behaviour has been mediocre to say the least, just because I am in the presence of a child,’ he ponders to himself. He decides to take a chunk of cold charcoal out of the fireplace and draws a crude moustache on himself. 

He disappears into his bedroom very briefly to retrieve his top hat. When he returns to a tearful Pearl he bows to her, and takes his top hat off, as a gentleman does, while saluting a lady fore a pleasant evening around the town. 

He declares in a deeper and more playful tone, “Will you please excuse my previous discretions miss. A gentleman such as myself cannot recall a time when I have been in the presence of such a fine girl as yourself. Will you do the honour of sharing a dance with me?” 

Pearl giggles at Cal with drying tears, leaving a trail of salty residue on her cheeks, she is thinking, ‘tall scawy man now funny.’ 

“No no how,” she whispers shyly. 

“A fine girl as yourself who does not know how to dance? Anne have you ever heard such a thing?” Cal says with playful surprise. His dark brown eyes gleam with amusement. 

Anne has to hide her astonishment. Her thoughts are on an endless stream of flattery, ‘he has only called me Anne a few times since I have been hired for him. This is the most lighthearted I have seen Mr. Hockley. I have to hide my surprise and play along.’ 

“No sir, I haven’t,” she tells him with a giddy smile. 

“Well I’ll be! This just won’t do,” Cal says as he tells Anne, “Anne the music please.”

He smiles dashingly at Pearl and playfully declares to her, “My dear, on this evening I will teach you how to dance. On my feet up you get now that’s it, well done, now 1...2...3...you are a very good dancer Miss Pearl.” 

Pearl is giggling the whole time, as she thinks, ‘fun, I an da dance.’

When the swaying melody of the _Sphinx Waltz*_ ends, Pearl giggles and jumps up and down begging for, “Mow.”

“You hear that Anne. The girl would like more. Who am I to deny such wishes? It’s a gentleman’s dream to dance with a woman,” Cal responds to Pearl’s playful response. 

“I’m no wo,” Pearl tells him. “I giwl.”

“Not right, now you’re not, no,” Cal agrees. “One day you will be a woman, and one of the best dancers I bet,” he says, smiling tenderly down at the little girl standing on his feet. Her sticky hands are gripping his large slender fingers, anchoring him in this timeless moment. 

The sounds of the delicate whimsical tune are accompanied by Cal’s deep baritone voice singing, “Shine little glow-worm glimmer…”, and Pearl’s light giggles. As the haunting melody and voice of _The Glowworm**_ comes to a harmonious end Cal and Pearl’s rhythmic spinning stops, like the lightly flowing waters of a river that lulls into a babbling brook.

They are spellbound into a moment of innocence and simplicity with the song.

Cal’s heart feels alight, ‘as if there are glow-worms fluttering in my heart!’ 

He is captivated by the little girl smiling up at him with darling innocence, “Thank you for sharing this dance with me Miss Pearl,” he tells her tenderly and gratefully. 

Cal is expended and energized at the same time. He goes to sit down on the plush striped white and light green upholstered couch with a contented sigh.

“Perhaps Miss Pearl would like some ice cream?” Anne suggests. 

“I think that’s a splendid idea. Would you like some refreshing ice cream Miss Pearl?” Cal asks pleasantly. 

Pearl nods enthusiastically. 

“Give her as much as she desires Anne. She didn’t eat a lot for supper,” Cal requests cheerfully. To-night he will learn that children and too much sugar do not mix. 

Cal is sitting on the couch and hears Pearl chirping softly, “Mow,” at least three times. Pearl comes back and sits beside him with a very satisfied smile on her face as she gazes with wonder at her light blue pottery bowl holding two large scoops of vanilla and chocolate ice cream. 

After she eats her fill of the melting pile of goo, at least that is what it looks like to Cal as he glances at the melting mess, the little mess maker is giggling. ‘Please, no more cackling,’ Cal wishes as he fondly watches Pearl run around non stop. 

“I have created a monster,” he mutters to himself in the lavatory mirror as he washes his charcoal moustache off. He made the unknown mistake of leaving his top hat in the sitting room. He comes back expecting to see Pearl rolling on the floor laughing like a hyena, only to discover, ‘No Pearl and no...’ 

“Anne have you seen where our guest of honour has gone?” he asks calmly. 

“No sir, I thought she was with you,” Anne tells him, as she peaks around the wooden doorframe of the kitchen. 

“No I just went to tidy up,” he briefly explains. 

‘This could be bad’...he thinks as he hears a sound coming from the open fireplace. ‘I can play this game too,’ he muses with an excited smirk. 

“You know Anne. I think I heard something from this area, let me check under the couch...no...behind the plant... where oh where could that sound be coming from?” 

Pearl stumbles from the fireplace covered in soot shouting, “I man too!” wearing a soot covered top hat. 

Cal looks at her in relief knowing she is alright. ‘I am shocked at the ingenuity of children, though I want to be mad at her about the top hat.’ He can feel his body start to get hot with anger but it quickly abates. 

“Anne I believe that this gentleman is in dire need of a bath before her father arrives,” he says, looking down with amusement at her black powdered hair and soot dusted cheeks. 

“Right away sir,” Anne says obediently.

‘Where is her father anyway?’ she thinks as she holds onto Pearl’s soot covered hand and leads her to the porcelain bathtub in the lavatory. 

The sound of running water, child’s laughter, and the ticking clock fill the apartment. 

Cal stands in front of the sitting room window, not seeing the dark hazy view or the yellow lights. His mind is preoccupied with no thoughts and too many thoughts all at once.

He can hear the sound of the lavatory door opening and turns around to see Anne carrying and tenderly holding a very clean Pearl. “She’s very tired sir.” 

“I can see that for myself. The child is yawning and rubbing her eyes. What to do, what to do, what to do?” he asks himself as he tries to gather his thoughts that remind him of leaping sheep. 

There is a sudden loud knock on the front door, “Put her in my bed, wrapped in the towel for now,” he instructs as he strides with anticipation to the beckoning door.

He opens the opaque divide expecting to encounter Abe on the other side, but instead Lovejoy is standing before him. Cal raises his dark eyebrows and his brown eyes are wide as he silently tells Lovejoy to speak first.

“I heard an unusual sound,” Lovejoy begins cryptically. 

“Yes, did you go and investigate?” Cal asks in a hard tone. 

“Yes...it was coming from your flat...the sound of children’s laughter was coming from your flat,” Lovejoy tells him with barely concealed surprise. 

“Just conducting business, it’s nothing to fret about.” 

“With a child?” 

“Everything is under control you may go and do whatever it is you do when you are not with me,” Cal replies.

Lovejoy starts to turn his strong back, “Wait!” Cal calls. “You don’t happen to have a child’s night dress around your apartment do you?” he inquires.

“Do I seem like the kind of man to have a child’s night dress? If my services are no longer required I will excuse myself.” 

Cal closes the heavy door with a silent click. He glances at the old cuckoo clock on the wall, it is nearing eleven o’clock at night. “Of course she is tired,” he mumbles. 

“Not the father then sir. I can wash her clothes sir. They will most likely be stained, but clean. And I can dry them in front of the fire. I will stay with her.” Anne suggests, as she comes out of the bedroom. 

“Very well. I am going to sleep in my study. Wake me when Abe comes,” Cal instructs wearily. 

“Sir do you think...” 

“I am going to my study. I don’t wish to be disturbed until Abe returns is that understood?” he firmly asks. 

Anne silently nods her head as she thinks, ‘that is or was young Mr. Hockley. To-night he showed me who Caledon or Cal Hockley was or is.’ 

Once the tiny clothes are hanging to dry Anne slips under the cream satin covers alongside the small sleeping child. She cannot help but be flooded by feelings of infatuation for Cal. She knows that she is inferior to him. Despite being aware of this admission, the feelings of fondness and admiration do not abate. She goes to sleep dreaming of a fantasy that will not be a reality. 

Cal quietly enters his study after changing his clothes in the lavatory and brushing his teeth. He adjusts himself to the familiar creaks of his study chair. He closes his eyes, succumbing to the sense of knowing that this is going to be, ‘a restless sleep.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The Sphinx Waltz was written in 1906 by Francis Popy. It was a song that was in the playbook for the White Star Line and was most likely played on the RMS Titanic. 
> 
> ** The Glowworm was a song that was written by Frank Lincke for a German Operetta ‘Lysistrata‘ in 1902. The English words were written by Lilla Cayley Robinson in 1910. This is the most darling song my ears ever did hear.
> 
> \- 
> 
> As always I am interested to hear what your thoughts are of this chapter or the story thus far.
> 
> Delving into the past from the future, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	25. Experiencing Life’s Essence

Cal looks around in the small dark room, feeling as if he is being watched. He is not alone in the study that is haunted by darkness. He cannot tell if his eyes are open or still closed. In this surrounding cimmerian shade he perceives that somebody has entered his study, “Am I dreaming or awake?” he asks the mysterious disturbance. 

“Some would say they are interchangeable darling,” a warm, rich, nurturing voice tells him. A voice that he knows but has not heard for a very long time. A hidden part of himself yearns to hear it. Cal audibly swallows in the ominous void as the mysterious spectre with the voice of a hollow maiden continues to speak.

“My beautiful boy, you have grown to be very handsome. I am proud of you Cal, of the man you are becoming,” the melodious voice coos.

“No!” Cal says vehemently.

“You were always your father’s son,” the shadow sighs, as if she is succumbing to a fate that she knew a long time ago. 

“Yes, well you made sure of that didn’t you,” Cal bitterly comments.

“You are angry with me,” is the matter of fact reply from his mother’s shadow.

“Of course, I am! You left me alone! When you died I lost a part of myself,” he confides to her, his deep voice cracking, betraying his emotional tirade.

“That sometimes happens to those that lose the people they love,” his mother’s shadow simply states. 

Cal bitterly thinks, ‘death has wisened her,’ as he stares at the tall dark mass in front of him. There is no face just a very clear distinction of a female figure in front of him.

“You didn’t have to though, you didn’t have to die. I could have been your only child, in the end I was,” he expresses to her in a broken voice, as if he was a child again. 

“No. Why would you deny me the chance to bring another life into this world? You had no say. I loved your sister the minute I found out I was carrying her. Being a woman and a human being who carries a child is a sacred act. An act that brings one closer to life and death. They are moments of creation. You will find out when you meet a woman who alights you,” the shadow passionately conveys.

“I have found a woman. She is already with child. Samuel’s child,” Cal expresses with deep bitterness.

“Does that bother you?” his mother tenderly inquires. 

“Yes. Sometimes, I think I am not the father so why should I raise the child? Then I think that I want to because I want to be with her. I have not told her my thoughts,” Cal softly confides. 

“The child is also a part of her too,” his mother lovingly affirms. 

“I have not thought of that,” he whispers. In his muddled mind he is embracing this thought as a crest of warmth enfolds him. It is as if the warm darkness of the room is enveloping him in a poignant embrace.

“That brings me great comfort mother,” he honestly states. “I worry about when the time comes for the birth. I don’t want what happened to you to happen to Elizabeth. I don’t want to see her in pain either,” he intensely confides. 

“Darling, you need to listen to me. I do not know this Elizabeth. For you to speak of her the way you do, she must be a beguiling woman.

“Pain is a part of life. Birthing hurts because life hurts. It is a moment of creation that is a tormenting time. 

“When the babe is going to be placed in your arms...well you will understand in time dear son. 

“One word of advice. Your father could not find the courage to oppose societies ridiculous ideas about men not being present. If it is her wish to have you there, be there. She will need your strength. Do you know why I named you Caledon?” 

Cal silently shakes his head at the visible talking shadow before him, as if somehow she made some of the thick darkness abate. 

“Because it means ‘tough people’. I knew your father wanted a name of dignity, a name that commanded respect, and that is also unique so that it could be easily remembered. 

“I wanted to name you Caledon because you were born into a life of privilege and circumstance. Therefore I needed you to have the strength to be strong, to do what you thought right for your family, and yourself. To be strong of heart and connected to that hidden part of yourself deep inside. 

“Your life is easier than others and yet in some ways it is an arduous life that you lead. Connect to that creativity inside you. Hold strong Cal. Stay the course. Do not surrender to the anger within you. Find joy, for when there is joy anger flees. 

“Your father raised you to be strict and brutal. You are more than that. You are your own man now. And Cal, I gave you two names when you were born. Caledon and Cal. 

“Cal means devotion, and my darling, you have a great capacity to love. You care so deeply. You are loyal to those you love, and you feel so intensely darling. Be aware of people using that for power. 

“Know that love is eternal. Find that constant that helps you be a man of kindness, joy, and wonder, like the little boy who I read stories to. Always follow that sacred star in your heart, let it be your lodestar. 

“Know, I love you and honour everything you were and are becoming, my sweet prince. 

“I have to travel now. Heed my words darling. Love is the invisible thread that connects us all, beyond any material possession or order. Fare thee well my son,” the shadow’s lyrical voice fades with a longing lilt as if it is a lingering wave on a beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Personally it is one of my favourites so far. I find it to have a poetic and haunting quality. What do you think? Please let me know, I am interested to hear your thoughts about this chapter or the story thus far.  
> Thank you for reading and I will be writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	26. Innocence Mourns

Cal wakes up disoriented. His mind cannot fathom if what he experienced was a dream or a sign of something more serious. His insides are in turmoil. He feels like screaming. He is confused and scared, ‘not that I will admit that of course,’ he thinks, as he reflects on his internal strife. 

Underneath all this emotional turbulence there is a cadenced calm and in the distance of these emotional depths there is a far away light calling from his inner abyss. “I need Elizabeth, I need Elizabeth,” he whispers faintly in the destitute room as if her name is a prayer. 

His moment of chaos and isolation is interrupted by a knock on his cherry wood door. He tries to speak but his tongue is stale and viscid. He chooses instead to walk to the closed door.

Anne is standing on the other side with her long straight black hair slightly disheveled, “He is here,” she informs him before mumbling something wearily in Italian. 

Whatever discomfort Cal is experiencing vanishes like moisture on a window. He walks to the entrance of his open apartment door to find a very intoxicated Abe, leaning against the mahogany doorframe. Because of his strong Scottish accent Cal has some difficulty understanding what Abe is saying when he is sober. Now it is nearly impossible. 

“Abe,” Cal softly greets. 

“Er me dau, I ne me dau, PU, PU,” he starts to shout out with a hoarse cry. 

This hysteria causes Lovejoy to wake up to see what all the commotion is about at his charge’s door. “Do you need me to...” he asks. 

“No I have it under control,” Cal tells him seriously, as his brown eyes study an inebriated Abe, silently observing him for any obvious injuries.

‘I do not want to cause harm to either Abe or Pearl by letting them leave. This is not a safe part of the city especially at night. This area of the city is not safe even when one is sober and not walking with a small child,’ Cal carefully discerns.

Cal knows that something went wrong with the birth. ‘I do not know how I know. I just do.’ Later on he will recognize the look of complete anguish and pain over losing someone most precious. 

‘I need...I need to breath, to stay calm and keep my anger at bay,’ he reflects as his insides are still reeling from his haunting experience.

“Come inside Abe, Pearl is inside. She is sleeping. Anne would you get some lemon ginger tea and a glass of water please,” he gently and softly commands. 

Anne has no time to comprehend his slip up and fulfills Cal’s request.

“I wa Pu, I wa Pu, I wa Pu,” Abe repeats with a gravelly exhausted murmur. 

“I know you do and you have her,” Cal gently consoles. 

“You sit down, on the couch now. There’s a good man, I am going to take your shoes off,” he kindly tells Abe, as he kneels down in front of the stunned man. Cal’s long fingers deftly undo the beige jute shoestrings on the worn brown boots.

Anne has never seen someone of Cal’s status take off a poor man’s shoes. ‘Maybe there is hope for me yet,’ she thinks, as she brings the cup of tea and glass of water. 

Cal appreciatively drinks the tepid water to relieve his parched throat. “Anne could you also bring a bucket in case he is sick,” he asks in a clear low voice that is no longer dry with sleep. 

“Your Pearl is sleeping. You will see her in the morning. Get some rest now,” Cal tells Abe calmly before he returns to his dark enclave.

Cal has difficulty falling back asleep, ‘if I was asleep before.’ He stays in a half awake state, listening to the creaking walls, as if they are speaking to each other in a language only they can understand. In this deep daze he feels himself floating into unconsciousness, as he falls into the realm of sleep in his study. 

~

Elizabeth has had a restfully unrestful sleep. She wakes suddenly, with an unexpected feeling deep in her gut. She did not think she had become accustomed to Cal’s presence already, but she has. ‘I miss him holding me the most, and waking me up to the sounds of him sniffing my hair in the morning, and giving me snoozy morning kisses,’ she thinks as she lies down and stretches. Feeling her contorted muscles stretch results in a relaxed sigh as she extends her arms out like a content cat on the firm mattress. The plush grey linen blankets and large yellow ochre duvet surround her like a quilted nest as they swaddle her in warmth.

She stares at the grey stone ceiling above her, knowing she needs to be up early to-day. ‘I have to tell Edward.’ She was so weakened from her time around town yesterday that she went straight for the bath when she returned home before falling asleep. She only bestirred for supper before going back to bed. 

Usually Elizabeth had liked to wake up to the sun and see Fly first thing in the morning. But now, as her stomach heaves abruptly she wonders, ‘is that why I was roused suddenly,’ fleeing her dazed position for a bout of sickness.

“This is becoming it’s own routine,” she reflects, rinsing her mouth and brushing her teeth, as she looks at her unkempt reflection in the mirror. Her exhausted blue eyes observe the frazzled strands of chestnut hair that are creating miniature tangles within her unkept locks. She looks at the shoulder of the white cotton nightdress hanging down her pale arm, as she traces her fingers over the soft skin and makes herself tingle at her loving touch, the soft hairs rise like spring daisies out of the earth. “Everything is becoming more sensitive,” she murmurs as she looks at her reflection in the mirror and admires the beauty that she is. “I love you,” she tells herself. Before her blue eyes widen once more as another wave of nausea visits. The new routine begins again.

“A routine that is not only in the mornings,” Elizabeth mutters, as she puts on her undergarments and a simple violet long sleeve wool dress that has mother of pearl buttons going down the front. 

She quietly and stealthily makes her way to the stables with Silas. She can see that Edward is not around so she goes to visit Fly first. Elizabeth whispers a quiet, “Good morning,” to her stabled friend before words become absent between them. Fly likes it when they lean their foreheads together and breathe until their two breaths become one. 

~

Edward returns from being deep in the field on the borders of the barren forest. He sees Silas’s shaggy grey marbled coat glinting in the soft sunlight like lost silver, as the dog sniffs in large circles around the stable as if he is looking for the precious metal itself. Edward knows that Elizabeth is there and he cannot help but think back to yesterday’s conversation. “I don’t want to be the child’s father,” he affirms to himself with deep anxiety. He is slightly bothered that Elizabeth is here. 

When he enters the wide stable doors he sees her petting Fly and respectively waits until they are finished with their ‘forehead sharing session,’ as he affectionately calls it.

‘She is so beautiful, they both are,’ he observes with love in his heart, as he looks at Elizabeth’s gently curved frame and her long thick free flowing dark mane of hair. He watches her hands rhythmically and gently stroking Fly’s red cheeks that look more like a deep red umber in the pastel yellow morning light. Tendrils of Fly’s auburn mane wisp in the cold morning breeze.

When Elizabeth and Fly naturally separate, Elizabeth can feel someone’s gaze. “Good day Edward,” she greets without looking at him. 

“So far yeah,” he says in a slightly cold tone that reflects the damp morning air. “You are here early,” he observes. 

“Yes. I see you had a successful hunt,” Elizabeth says, gratefully eyeing the four pink rabbits that Edward has trapped that are hanging from strings attached to a large branch that rests on his strong shoulders. Her heart is filled with silent blessings for the sacrificed lives.

“I just skinned them and am on my way to the kitchen,” he informs her proudly. 

‘I need to tell him,’ she orders herself. ‘Tell him Elizabeth!’ she silently commands.

She shifts her weight from foot to foot as if she is building courage of some sort, “You’re not the father,” she blurts out. 

“Oh thank God,” Edward visibly sighs out with great relief. 

The sun is casting bright rays of illuminating golden morning light on the stable which light up the bleached wood and the strands of golden hay on the ground in an ethereal glow.

Elizabeth feels the cool warmth of the early sunlight on her skin as if she is receiving a cosmic hug. “I wanted to tell you sooner but I was told to stay off my feet after yesterday afternoon. I feel much better telling you now though,” she says honestly, as she internally wilts with relief. 

“How do you know?” Edward asks. 

Elizabeth softly says, “I told mother and Rose my truth story.” 

“Wait, you told your mother about me? She’s going to let me go! What about the horses?” Edward asks in a passionate panic. 

“She will do no such thing. She wasn’t happy. I explained that it was only once and it was never to happen again,” Elizabeth tells him soothingly. 

“She believed that?” Edward asks surprised. 

“Yes, because it’s true. I am to be married Edward, to...” 

“A man you love. I know, you said the same thing about him and look what he did to you Elizabeth, nearly killed you he did,” Edward mutters darkly. 

“Cal’s different, I know he is,” Elizabeth says earnestly. 

“I am not going to argue with you...” Edward begins.

“You are my oldest friend...” Elizabeth interrupts. 

“We had this discussion yesterday Elizabeth. I only want you to be safe and loved,” he tenderly tells her. 

“I am. I would like for you to meet him one day,” she says in a tone that boasts no argument. 

“Very well, I will most likely rue my existence as being your oldest friend Elizabeth. No gentleman would like to know that the handsome stablehand is his woman’s best friend,” Edward convenes. 

“I am my own woman,” Elizabeth quips, as she postures herself powerfully with both hands on her wide hips and purses her dark pink lips that quiver with betraying laughter.

”Your man has no idea what he is doing marrying you,” Edward tells her, with a charming smile, his midnight curls handsomely framing his face as he shakes his head at his best friend. 

“And who ever said you were handsome?” Elizabeth counters. 

“You did. On that night,” he tells her with a loving fondness. 

Elizabeth has no clever retort on her tongue. She deftly looks around the stable clearly ignoring the kindling of their energetic sparks that had led to their spontaneous coupling. She notices a small bundle of golden hay on the ground and throws it at him before taking off running, with a loud laugh spurting from her lungs. 

Edward is a faster runner and eventually catches up to her. “No fair,” Elizabeth says breathlessly as she slows down. “You’re not wearing a dress.”

“Are you sure it’s just the dress or the child getting in the way?” Edward asks teasingly with a proud smirk on his tan face. 

Elizabeth knows he is joking, “I am not even showing yet. My body just feels like it’s changing.” 

“It is.” 

“I know.” 

“And it’s going to get bigger like a horse who is with foal,” he quips with sparkling green eyes exuding mirth and love.

“Not that big, Edward. I hope,” she finishes softly with reddening cheeks.

“Relax, I am only jesting. Your man really has no clue when it comes to you. He will have to come to me for advice,” Edward says knowingly, as he opens the blue kitchen door. 

“You would like that wouldn’t you...” Elizabeth starts to say as she walks into the warm kitchen with Silas jaunting happily along. Her rebuttal is lost on her lips when she sees her mother holding barely contained fury. 

~

Ruth is beyond enraged. She feels her body shake and there are splotches of red on her pale cheeks as she stands at the wooden island. Trudy stands across from her, the wood barrier preventing an icy panic.

The hardwood is strong and smooth under Trudy’s fingers as she breathes in the cold atmosphere that was comforting and warm only a few minutes ago. Now it is as if the damp morning air has chilled the crackling fire in the hearth. Trudy bravely glances up at Ruth’s enraged glacial gaze.

Ruth’s stare is hard and her fingers twitch as if she wants to throw ice balls at the confident man in front of her. It is as if Edward is a confident lion and Ruth is a queen of hailstones.

“Trudy was asking me if we had any social arrangements this week. I told her Cal was to return on Sunday,” she informs Elizabeth in a deathly quiet tone, as if her breath is forming words from an icy cold wind. 

Edward waves the pink skinned rabbits to Margaret, “I trapped some rabbits this morning.” 

“Thank you Edward,” Margaret says gratefully from the rocking chair beside the fire. 

“See you Elizabeth,” he says softly, just above a whisper, as he gives her arm a soft squeeze and walks out of the teal blue painted kitchen door into the dew dropped field whose spheres of water glisten in the morning light like transparent pearls. 

“My surprise Elizabeth, imagine my surprise. Upon visiting your room to see how you are faring, only to discover that you are not even there! I came to ask Trudy if she has seen you and to discuss meals with Margaret. I come in here and see you traipsing with the stablehand. The exact same stablehand who you were...” 

“It’s not what you think mother. Edward is my oldest friend, and I needed to tell him that he isn’t the father. Come to think of it, I did not tell him how I know in detail just that I told you and Rose my truth story. There are many kinds of love mother. Edward is my oldest friend. You also know how much I am enamoured with my fiancé,” Elizabeth interrupts with a truthful response. 

Ruth knows Edward the stablehand has been Elizabeth’s friend for many years and that she is alighted with Cal, “I trust you darling,” Ruth states softly melting. 

“Thank you mother,” Elizabeth says fondly, giving her mother one of the most beautiful smiles Ruth has ever received from her. The idea of someone trusting her ignites Elizabeth’s whole being, like sunlight on a wilted flower. 

Their moment of sincerity is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell ringing. “It’s quite early for any visitors,” Trudy observes as she walks to answer the door.

Her long pale fingers turn the door handle, revealing a delivery man holding a large bouquet of white roses, lavender, and greenery in various colours and textures of the earthy shade.

“Delivery from Mr. Caledon Hockley to a Miss Elizabeth DeWitt Bukater,” the floral delivery man reads gruffly from the small note in his large hand, his large black moustache moving with every single word he reads. 

“Thank you sir,” Trudy says smiling kindly before giving him a tip from the wicker coin basket behind the door. 

“Thank you ma’am,” he says leaving and driving away as fast as he came. 

“For you Miss DeWitt Bukater,” Trudy says, passing the cradled flowers gracefully to Elizabeth, who stands dutifully beside her mother in the centre of the large cathedral entrance. 

Elizabeth quietly reads the note from Cal.

Rose peaks her head over the pine banister to investigate the morning interruption, her red curls cascading over the edge of the cream coloured wood. “I heard the doorbell, is everything alright?” she asks as she glides down the stairs with her white lace peignoir billowing angelically behind her.

“Yes,” Ruth says. She is poised regally in front of an intricately carved urn with white and gold handles centred on the marble hostess table. The bulbous centre in hand painted porcelain depicts a bouquet of pink and yellow roses and reflecting this image it holds a bouquet of flowers in its hollow centre.

“Elizabeth just received flowers from her fiancé,” Ruth informs Rose with a small smile. 

“Good choices,” Rose muses aloud. 

Elizabeth looks at her questionably.

“The white roses symbolize new beginnings, everlasting love, and eternal loyalty. The lavender represents calmness, refinement, royalty, grace, and femininity,” Rose explains as she picks up a freshly fallen lone yellow petal. “Your man seems to know his flowers Elizabeth,” she gently teases as she fingers the perfumed blossom that is as soft as an angel’s wing. 

“Aren’t they lovely,” Elizabeth breathily whispers. “I’m going to telephone him and say thank you. Trudy could you take this exquisite arrangement and put it in the vase on the table by the window in my room,” Elizabeth asks. 

“Of course.” 

“Thank you.” 

“They really are magnificent aren’t they mother?” Rose observes. 

“Yes, Rose it’s a very kind gesture,” Ruth says distantly.

Inside Ruth is overwhelmed by Cal’s thoughtfulness. ‘I forgot to tell Elizabeth that he telephoned. I told him that she was not feeling well and he sent her flowers. I want to swoon.’ 

~

Cal is woken up by the sun making a rare break through the thick grey smoke. The cold soft red light shines on his face. ‘I do not occupy this space often enough to warrant having curtains.’

He is startled from thinking about curtains when his telephone rings, “Hello,” he gruffly greets.

“Darling it is Elizabeth. I received the flowers just a moment ago. They are exquisite!” Elizabeth says from the hallway on the other side of the kitchen wall as she stands in the hallway at the ornately carved wood table, it’s long legs looking like they are arching into the earth.

Hearing Elizabeth’s excited voice brings a smile to Cal’s tired face. 

“The combination of the white and lavender is just splendid,” he hears her say. 

“The texture of them both is very harmonizing. Thank you for your thoughtfulness. They make my heart sing,” Elizabeth says gratefully. 

“I am glad you are enjoying them. I trust that you are feeling better?” he asks. 

“Oh much. I had a harrowing day of exhaustion, not only physical but emotional as well,” Elizabeth lightly explains.

“I am sorry to hear that sweet pea. Your mother said that you had a trying day when I called yesterday,” he tells her as he adjusts his posture in the leather chair, the wood creaking like old joints in an autumn gale. 

“You called yesterday?” Elizabeth inquires.

“Yes, just to say hello and that I arrived and I was thinking about you,” he tells her softly and honestly.

“You must be very busy. I won’t keep you any longer. Thank you again for the charming flowers and for thinking of me. I love you,” Elizabeth gratefully expresses.

“I love you as well. Take care sweet pea. I will see you Sunday,” Cal tells her with deep conviction.

“Until Sunday then.” 

“Yes.” 

“I must go for breakfast now. Thank you again. I asked Trudy to put them in my room on the table by the window where we shared our first meal and sleep together,” she informs him with a giddy smile in her voice.

“I must go for breakfast as well. I am content to know that you are content while I am absent. Fare thee well sweet pea.” 

“To you as well Cal, until Sunday.” 

The telephone line goes silent. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Cal whispers into his clasped hands. 

There is a light knock on his study door, “Come in,” he politely acknowledges. 

“Abe is awake sir,” Anne informs him. 

“Very good. Is Pearl still asleep?” he asks in his business voice. 

“Yes sir.” 

Cal goes to see Abe who is sitting up on the grotesquely upholstered white and lime green striped couch rubbing his head. His strong fingers run through the speckled strands making the coarse hair stick up in varied directions. 

“How are you feeling Abe?” Cal asks gently.

He receives the mysterious look again only to recognize the look, the furrowed dark eyebrows and the visible crow’s feet beside Abe’s dark eyes that are outlining the deep pools of anguish. He keeps opening and closing his mouth as if he is speaking a silent language that only broken hearts can speak. He starts to pull at the strands of speckled hair, his handsome face twisted in pain. ‘Father made that exact same look when mother and the baby died,’ Cal realizes.

“Me bairn is dea’ an’ me wife lost ‘oo mu’ blood. Midwife sa’ she don’ hav’ a lot of time lef’ los’ ‘oo mu’ blood, oh my wee bairn, oh Mary,” Abe wails in a dry cracked voice. 

“Last night...” Cal begins. 

“Da?” a small sleepy voice interrupts. 

Cal closes his eyes in anguish. ‘I know, I know, what is coming.’

“Ma?“ Pearl asks as she rotates her small head around the apartment as if she is expecting her mother to appear from a hidden corner that she has not explored. 

“Ye ma is...” Abe begins.

“bwothu, thithtew?” Pearl asks eagerly. 

Abe breaks down in a thick blubbering cry. 

Cal cannot handle this, he needs Elizabeth. ‘To just be here. I have something to do. I do not know how to manage the mill schedule and this crisis. I need to get to the mill. I do not want to leave Abe with just Anne. There is Lovejoy but he lacks,…well he is better for driving around...I have an idea.

‘I do not want Anne to look after Pearl because she already has too much to do, plus Elizabeth can see the mill,’ he thinks as he telephones the DeWitt Bukater estate.

‘I need…I need Elizabeth,’ he recites to himself as the line distantly rings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone, 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this intense chapter.   
> Please share any of your thoughts with me of what you think of this story thus far or the chapter in general if you just want to say how do you do i am fine with that too.   
> Thank you for reading. 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	27. Loving Service

“Breakfast is served Rose,” Ruth quietly announces from her spot at the head of the dining room table. 

“I know I was just going to...” 

“Your sister will come when she is finished speaking with Cal,” Ruth tells her sternly. 

Shortly after Rose has sat down, Elizabeth comes to sit at her spot across from Rose at the long wooden table. She smiles a little when she sees the steaming bowl of oatmeal that is dotted with dried currents and sprinkled with slivered almonds. She observes the golden clumps of honey melting into the textured mush that is plated in a floral china bowl showcasing a meadow of light green sprigs and blue delphiniums.

Just as she lifts up her silver spoon, slightly misted from the steam of the nourishing gruel, the telephone rings. 

“Miss DeWitt Bukater the telephone was for you,” Trudy announces as she looks at Elizabeth, conveying a silent message with her kind dark eyes. 

“You know the rule Elizabeth, no talking on the telephone during meal time,” Ruth states in a quietly strict tone. 

Trudy knows this rule, ‘but this was Caledon Hockley, Miss Elizabeth’s fiancé but they did not know that. I have to break etiquette here, he did say it was urgent,’ she postulates.

“No bu...” Ruth says to the defiant look on Elizabeth’s face. 

“It was Mr. Hockley, Cal, madame, he would like Elizabeth’s presence for an urgent matter,” Trudy interrupts. 

“I just talked to him, something must be wrong,” Elizabeth says hurriedly as she stands up. 

“Just because he telephones again doesn’t mean there’s something wrong,” Rose tries to explain with a quiet grumble. Inside her feelings are knotted with jealousy. She feels as if she is losing her sister. The currents of life are pulling and drifting Elizabeth farther and farther away from her.

“Trudy ask Edward to prepare the carriage. No, it’s too far I think, and the air is too dirty for the horses. We will need the automobile, I will get there faster. Give the address to Edward. I have to go get dressed. When Edward has received his instructions please come and help me,” Elizabeth hastily orders, oblivious to Rose’s internal plight. 

“Yes Miss,” Trudy acknowledges with a satisfied smirk. 

Elizabeth walks as quickly and gracefully as she can to her room. She is not allowed to run in the house. “That is one rule that mother is very strict about,” she mutters to herself as she walks up the stairs.

In her bedroom, by the ebony dresser with embellished silver handles, she adjusts her white chemise, soutien-gourge and bust supporter before slipping on her purple and pink velvet dress with gold tasseled short sleeves, and laying out the rest of her ensemble.

Trudy’s nimble and pale fingers obediently loop the last button hole at the neck of the dress over the last amethyst button. She closes the hole with a small sigh and drapes the heavy long black wool coat with a black fur collar over Elizabeth’s shoulders to protect her against the cold.

Elizabeth covers her hands with purple wool gloves and picks up the dark brown mink fur muff waiting on the yellow ochre sheets of the wooden bed.

Before putting the warm muff on her hands Elizabeth gathers her long thick hair under the large purple velvet hat with purple and pink silk flowers and a large gold coloured velvet bow on top. She chooses a rose quartz and amethyst purple beaded stone necklace and dark blue leather boots to match the teal and gold coloured waist embellishment.

“Is the automobile ready?” Elizabeth asks Trudy with nervous butterflies in her stomach. Tendrils of chestnut hair protest against their hasty confinement as if they are wisps of moss hanging from a tree.

“Waiting for you Miss Elizabeth,” Trudy replies dutifully and softly as she finishes tying up the dark blue leather laces.

“Thank you Trudy,” Elizabeth says gratefully as Trudy busily folds up the wrinkled morning dress lying in a dark heap on the bedroom floor. They share a soft smile before Elizabeth strides carefully down the steep stairs.

“I am leaving now. I will telephone you later!” Elizabeth calls behind her to Ruth and Rose as she passes through the arching wooden entryway.

“Let’s go,” Elizabeth tells Edward once inside the stuffy leather interior of the automobile and with a loud sputter from the humming engine they are on their way.

~

After Cal is advised that Elizabeth is on her way, a small hopeful smile graces his face. He turns towards the direction of the rising smoke and prepares himself for whatever may be on the other side of the unexpected sanctuary of his study.

When he enters the morose living room Abe is hunched over on the striped lime green and white couch. His fine wrinkled face is sickly pale and crestfallen, and his dark, almost black gaze reminds Cal of a bottomless pit. ‘His eyes are devoid of all emotion. He looks as if he is a limp puppet with broken strings,’ Cal discerns.

“Abe how about you eat?” Cal gently invites as he kneels in front of the sorrow filled man.

“No me stoma’k,’” Abe states in a broken voice. 

‘Elizabeth did say that oatmeal was gentle on her stomach,’ Cal ponders. “Anne make some oatmeal,” he orders. 

“Right away sir.” 

Pearl is looking around wide-eyed, her light sapphire blue eyes clearly seeing that her father is upset. She does not understand what is happening and feeling a rising panic in her, thinks, ‘da? Ma?’

“Pearl I have a special book if you would like to look at it...it’s about butterflies,” Cal tells her gently, kneeling in front of her. “Come, you can read it in my study, while your da eats his breakfast.” 

‘I no wan book, I no wan da, I wan ma!’ Pearl’s thoughts cry. 

“Mamamamamama!” she cries loudly, large tears rolling down her red cheeks. Cal does not know what to do. He has never embraced a child before. 

“I can’t get your ma right now because she is asleep,” he gently tells her.

‘I do not want to be the one to tell the child that her mother and sibling are dead and most likely dying. How much mucous does a child have? I am definitely not embracing her when she is covered in snot.’ Silently, and knowing words are useless, he pulls out his grey handkerchief from his pocket and starts to gently wipe Pearl’s tears and sticky snot away before the green mucous stains her dark blue dress even more. 

There is a soft knock on the front door. Anne hears it and opens the heavy door revealing a young woman with large blue eyes at the threshold, standing tall and proud. Her chest is rising up and down with hidden breath. Her long black coat is opened and Anne can see the velvet purple dress showing off her ample bosom underneath. She cannot stop staring at the large purple hat on top of Elizabeth’s regal head that is covered in purple and pink silk flowers. The golden bow shines in the dim hallway. The dull glow of the hall light highlights some of the soft purple velvet fibres making them glint in the faint lighted corridor. She blinks in surprise before gracefully telling her, “I am sorry we are not expecting...” 

“Mr. Hockley called for me.” 

Cal hears Elizabeth’s voice before he sees her as if her voice is sunshine in a dark room. He picks Pearl up in his arms and with a pleading tone in his voice and softening his intense gaze he says, “I need a helping hand.” 

“It’s your lucky day then because I brought two,” Elizabeth quips awkwardly showing him her two purple glove covered hands encased in the muff.

Cal smiles warmly at her. 

“I need your support too,” Elizabeth tells him in a steady tone. 

Cal warily looks at her thinking, ‘what does she want from me? I called her.’ 

“I received your telephone call just as I sat down to eat and left immediately after. I didn’t eat breakfast and I am quite famished. I am flustered asking you for this, but do you have any food we can eat?” Elizabeth softly explains.

“Sweet pea, of course I have food. Actually Anne was just preparing oatmeal,” he gently tells her as he sighs with relief. 

“That’s exactly what I need,” she says with a warm kiss on his smooth cheek.

“Who’s this sweet little one?” Elizabeth asks, as she carefully lays her hand soothingly on Pearl’s cheek, wet from silently flowing tears.

“Her name is Pearl, and that is her father Abe. He works for me. I was going to serve him a promotional dinner last night but his wife was experiencing birthing pains. He left Pearl with me when he went to be with his wife. He came back in the middle of the night completely inebriated. This morning he told me they lost the baby and his wife is in critical condition. They don’t think she will make it,” Cal explains to her in a gravely quiet tone. 

“What do you need my helping hands to do?” Elizabeth asks seriously. 

“I need to go to the mill to-day. We are trying a new system and I need to keep watch and order. Can you stay here with Pearl and just be with her? Careful, her nose drips. I will get Lovejoy, my valet, to bring Abe to see his wife,” Cal explains in a hurried voice. 

Abe is listening to the quiet conversation. Remembering Mary’s last words to him he interjects gruffly, “No. I hav’ te wor’ me job me money.” 

“You will get paid leave for as long as you need. The same amount as if you were working. Be with your wife now. Come back when you are ready,” Cal gently explains to him while Anne takes Elizabeth’s coat, hat, and muff from her.

~

“Thank you Anne this smells delicious,” Elizabeth tells her kindly as she starts to eat the plain porridge in front of her, despite the misery around her.

Abe stares blankly into his azure blue glazed bowl, as if it is a basin that holds images of what his life could have been with Mary and the bairn instead of oatmeal.

He knows what he needs to do and it is the right thing to do, ‘Mary knew and so does she. Children know...’ 

Cal’s deep voice disturbs his musings like wind rippling across a clear body of water, “You will need your strength to-day Abe. My fiancée here says that oatmeal is one of the best foods to soothe a qualmish stomach,” Cal tells an oblivious Abe as he holds Elizabeth’s hand, intertwining their fingers and briefly kissing the top of Elizabeth’s bare hand.

“That and ginger tea,” Elizabeth adds. 

“I gave him some earlier and last night,” Cal quietly informs her.

~

Anne knew she did not like Elizabeth the moment she laid eyes on her. ‘She is his fiancée, who must not be rich, she thanked me. No true woman of status thanks the staff,’ she bitterly thinks, as she lays Elizabeth’s long black coat and muff on the white hexagonal ottoman in the living room. She crinkles her slender nose in disgust at the floral scent that prickles her nose like a thousand roses’ thorns.

~

Pearl silently sits by Abe and cries into her bowl of oatmeal, wanting her mother. Her salty tears drip into the large bowl and she wipes her hand across her small red button nose. Pearl’s small feet tremor in her small worn boots as they swing above the frayed red carpet that is showing the silhouettes of the slabs of wood underneath. Her insides are shaking with uncertainty and fear. She feels cold and lost.

“What about a sad stomach?” Cal asks, as he gazes empathetically at Pearl. 

“A few herbs maybe but I would not be comfortable administering them to someone so young,” Elizabeth tells him absently, as she intently looks at the little girl with curly blonde hair who she judges is no more than three.

‘She is scared more than sad,’ Elizabeth silently observes as she studies the trembling child sitting across from her. 

“She needs to feel safe,” Elizabeth murmurs aloud. 

“I beg your pardon?” Cal asks perplexed. 

“You said that she stayed the night. Did she bring anything with her like a...,” Elizabeth looks at Pearl intently again, “…a doll or bear?” 

“No...” Cal begins to say before he hastily gets up from the table as a lightning bolt of an idea strikes him. He walks quickly into his room to retrieve the sooty top hat from the bedside table.

He smiles as he remembers last night, ‘so different from this morning.’ 

When he returns to the morosely quiet table he kneels down beside Pearl who is loudly sniffling. 

“Pearl, do you remember the gentleman from last night?” Cal quietly asks her. 

She turns from staring at her uneaten oatmeal to look at him and soundlessly nods. 

“Well, you see the gentleman made a grievous error. Upon the end of the meeting, when a gentleman and woman part, it’s his duty to give her his hat. Do you know why?” Cal gently asks.

Pearl soundlessly shakes her head with her full attention on Cal.

“Because,” Cal’s voice changes to sound even more warm and pleasant than it already is, “because it’s to keep the woman safe until their next meeting. Pearl, you were my dance partner last night and I would like to give you this hat, if you choose to keep it. May it keep you safe and bring you the comfort of happy memories when you are sad. Will you let me gift this hat to you?” 

Pearl calmly bows her head as Cal sets the hat atop her golden head of curls. Elizabeth resists making a cooing sound not wanting to interrupt the tender moment. She makes eye contact with Pearl and with a kind smile says, “You look very handsome.” 

With a bright smile that Cal did not see since last night Pearl chirps, “I’m gen’man.” 

“Thank you,” Cal murmurs into Elizabeth’s ear, giving her a discreet kiss on the spot behind and beneath her earlobe making her internally squirm and gasp, before he innocently returns to his place at the small table. 

~

Abe is not aware of what is happening with his child. He is too preoccupied with a whirlpool of thoughts about his dead baby and sick wife. He eats as much as he can. He knows it is time to go to his Mary and get some affairs in order. He clumsily gets up from the table and loudly says, “I ha’ve t’ go now!”

Cal gets up stoically, “I will inform Lovejoy.” 

When he slides his chair back and rises from his plain wooden chair, Pearl hastily jumps up crying, “No, no, no go!”

Cal’s eyes tenderly behold Pearl with his deep gaze. He kneels down beside her, and in a voice that is both soft and kind, he tells her, “I need to go and bring your da to see your ma. Do you remember what I told you about the hat keeping you safe?”

Pearl nods as she sucks on the small thumb of her right hand. Scarlet splotches of heated skin colour her round, soft pale ashen cheeks.

“You see this woman here,” Cal says gesturing to Elizabeth with his head, “I asked her to come here to stay with you.”

Pearl points to Anne with a trembling lip as Cal further explains, “That’s Anne, she works for me. It would not be right for me to ask her to do more than she already does. She will make you and Elizabeth food. I will be joining you for lunch.” 

He tenderly saunters to Elizabeth and honourably takes her hand before kissing the top of it. As he holds onto the soft warm palm enveloped by his own large one he silently reflects, ‘Elizabeth and I may have lost our innocence in very different ways. I am mourning my childhood and Pearl is giving me the gift of play. As long as she and Abe need my support I will be loyal to them.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter.   
> If you feel compelled to please write any comments, thoughts or feelings about what you think of this chapter or story thus far.   
> Thank you for reading.   
> Writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	28. A Day of Unravelling

Cal politely knocks on Lovejoy’s closed plain wood door.

Lovejoy’s ill-lighted, towering, and imposing silhouette obstructs the doorway. He is visibly taken aback at the sight before him. He rapidly blinks his small blue eyes and shakes his rectangular head as he tries to process the image in front of him of Caledon Hockley wearing a wrinkled black suit. His tired face that is usually cockily aglow to-day is showcasing haggard brown eyes. He silently observes the man in front of him who he fails to recognize, ‘I have never seen Caledon Hockley so dishevelled.’ 

Cal is not amused by Lovejoy’s puzzled expression, like a dog that had run into a wall.

“I need you to take this man to this address,” he requests.

Lovejoy notices the stocky man hunched beside his charge, a dirty flat hat that lost its natural colour a long time ago shadowing the man’s face. ‘He looks worse than Cal and he reeks of stale alcohol,’ Lovejoy silently scrutinizes, as he wrinkles his large nose in disgust.

“Is he lost?” Lovejoy questions bitingly. 

Cal looks stonily at Lovejoy. “No,” he says in a quiet voice that is hiding exhausted rage.

“Then why do I need to take the drunkard to this address?” Lovejoy questions further. 

Cal does not think it is proper to speak of worker’s matters. He does not want Abe to lose more of his composure, ‘that I have tried to restore.’

“You have never questioned me before Lovejoy, don’t start doing so now. You are here to be of service to me. Do your job,” Cal retorts sternly. 

‘I cannot comprehend why I am helping Abe, I just know I have to,’ Cal silently ponders, as Lovejoy reaches for the automobile key on the door hook, hidden beside the door.*

“Very well...come with me you,” Lovejoy says sourly, as he leads Abe to the automobile. 

Cal watches Abe lumbering along, trying to keep up to Lovejoy’s full severe gait. The sound of their heavy footsteps echo as they scuffle down the stairs until they are muted to Cal’s tired ears.

Cal shakes off the burden of his exhaustion, feeling lighter with the prospect of seeing Fortuna. ‘I do not think it right for me to walk with the rest of the workers, so that is why I have a horse and carriage,’ he muses as he quickly strides to the stable as he has done countless times before.

~

In the stuffy apartment a young maiden is internally composing herself. Elizabeth had spent quite a bit of time with children in the past while she volunteered at the children’s hospital before marrying Samuel. Recently, though, there were only the few occasions when she was with Alice, who was already much older than Pearl is now.

‘Cal is very good with Pearl. I cannot help but think of him with our child and future children,’ she ponders dreamily as she finishes her bowl of oatmeal.

She shakes herself from these blissful musings, eyeing the child sitting across from her. ‘I need to focus on Pearl now. That is why he telephoned me, he needs me,’ she determines as she paints black current jam on her buttered bread. 

As she rhythmically chews the crusty piece of dough she observes her insecurities about being here, ‘if I somehow make Pearl more upset will he think me a bad mother? And then there is his maid...’ Elizabeth’s thoughts drown in the overwhelming silence of inhibited awkwardness as she glances at Anne, who is dutifully awaiting her instruction at the door to the kitchen. 

Pearl is eating her oatmeal in a messy silence. There is more oatmeal on the white tablecloth than there is going into the little girl’s stomach. 

Elizabeth daintily reaches for her teacup, and, abruptly realizing that it has not been served, she recalls, ‘I want tea. What did Cal say her name is? Oh, yes, Anne.’

“Anne, could I have some ginger tea with lemon please?” Elizabeth requests politely. 

Anne mutely nods and disappears into the kitchen to prepare the much anticipated tea. Her insides are bubbling with bitterness and jealousy reflected in the sounds of the rolling water shielded in the cast iron kettle. Her whispered rambles are heated with spite and hate, “Oh how I want to spit in her tea. I have never met anyone self righteous like her. Sitting all straight and proper as if she is a woman of high class which she clearly is not!

“That dress is beautifully appalling! It is as if she sewed a curtain together. Cal deserves a woman who actually has fashion sense and knows how to take care of him. 

“Worst of all she helped Pearl! I am supposed to help her. I am the one who spent a whole evening with the child. This trumpet waltzes in here, and declares in her dopey querulous voice that the child does not feel safe. I…I should have seen…

“And Cal’s reaction to her, the way his broad shoulders relaxed, the loving smile he gave her, the way his brown eyes lit up as if her spirit ignited him. And the way he touched her as if nobody was watching...well maybe this morning no one was. No! that’s wrong, I was watching,” Anne sibilates vehemently with heated breath. She spits each word into the cold mist of the early morning temperature that dampens the apartment.

As she leaves the kitchen she trips on her black skirt and to her utter horror drops the plain white tea cup and silver tray on the white and blue tile floor. A sharp shard of china cuts her palm, leaving a long trail of thick pooling blood. Her ears ring from the shrill clang that sounds like a thousand screams in the darkest night.

~

Pearl is startled by the piercing sound and drops her silver spoon with a dainty clang into her bowl, her bottom lip trembling with fright. 

Elizabeth calmly assures Pearl that she is safe, as she kneels beside the trembling child who is on the verge of tears. Lightly touching Pearl’s soft bony shoulder Elizabeth soothingly tells her in a calm light voice, “It’s alright. Anne dropped something. I am going to go and see if she is alright.”

Pearl wants to believe Elizabeth, but she does not want her to go, not even to leave the small room. ‘Pretty lady is nice, she smell good, and she stay,’ Pearl thinks as she clings to Elizabeth’s neck.

“You are just going to come with me then,” Elizabeth murmurs affectionately.

“Are you all right Anne?” Elizabeth asks, seeing the hunched over figure of Anne.

Anne is cowering in her anger, breathing heavy breaths of humiliation and hate. “Fine madam, I just dropped your tea,” Anne bites out, as she leans against the wooden counter covering her bleeding hand.

“Are you hurt?” Elizabeth asks concerned. 

‘Why won’t this wench just leave me alone! Why does she not just leave! Cal can have anybody, why did he have to chose someone so loathsome?’ Anne agonizes with silent bitterness. 

Beads of ruby blood glisten on the white and blue tiled floor, as if they are the shining jewels. Drops of the crimson fluid seep through Anne’s closed fingers.

“You are bleeding! Here Pearl, let me…,” Elizabeth exclaims with wide blue eyes filled with concern as she looks at the flowing scarlet trickle leaking through Anne’s damming fingers.

She sits Pearl securely on the light wooden counter before she goes to look in the linen basket for a clean cloth. She wets the clean linen under the cold water of the sink and attempts to tend to a seething Anne.

“May I?” Elizabeth tenderly asks as she gestures to Anne’s crimson stained fingers. 

“No, I will do it! Don’t want to get your filthy clean hands dirty by touching me now do we?” Anne spits out, grabbing the cloth out of Elizabeth’s open palm. She lays the cold compress on the open wound. The pulsing blood slows with the application of pressure. The cold water relives the heat from the affected site. Anne silently walks to the wicker linen basket on the high corner shelf to make a bandage. The air of the kitchen is charged with a heavy silence. 

With her hands clasped behind her back to prevent the itch to help, Elizabeth observes Anne tending to her wound, and sees that Anne does not need her help. She lifts Pearl down from the counter and gently holds onto one of her small, soft, sticky hands.

Elizabeth feels the cold atmosphere of the kitchen as if she is standing in a blizzard. The air is frosty and crisp. She senses a glacial wind from within.

“When you are finished making your bandage, you can pick up the shards on the floor, and unburden the table of breakfast. We have finished eating,” Elizabeth directs.

Turning her back she refrains from saying thank you. She does not do well with being insulted and decides, ‘from the first time I set foot in this apartment I have been insulted, by a maid no less.’ 

Elizabeth is kind to Trudy because she is a friend. ‘Anne is a stranger, we are strangers. We do not need to be friends but we can at least be jovial. Instead of whatever this suffocating uncomfortableness is,’ she resigns.

Her stomach suddenly heaves. Pearl is still gripping strongly onto her hand. With wide panic filled blue eyes and rising acid in her throat she spots a steel bucket beside the couch. ‘A miracle,’ she thinks, as she runs to retch into the bucket. 

Sitting beside her, Pearl lightly plays a comforting tune by tapping Elizabeth on the shoulder, “Pwetty lady? Pwetty lady?” her small voice trills.

Anne hears the unequivocal sounds of retching and peaks her long face out of the kitchen to see the ‘dastardly wrench retching in the bucket.’ She almost laughs with pleasure as she picks up the pot of oatmeal.

When Elizabeth is finished with her convulsing gagging she picks up the laden bucket by the thin handle, carrying it to the lavatory. 

Anne is flabbergasted, ‘what is she doing? She must be a scullery maid of sorts who works in a canteen where they have dreadful curtains.’ 

As Elizabeth walks by the dining room table, Anne snarkily remarks, “A woman who drinks until she is sick mustn’t be much of a high class woman.” 

Elizabeth ignores her with bated breath as she walks gingerly with one hand on her stomach, as if the empty gesture would alleviate the internal upset. ‘I am my mother’s daughter, why am I being so meek? It is not about ‘not giving satisfaction’ such as at the afternoon tea. This, this is about establishing respect. This maid does not benefit from kindness. No, she needs order,’ Elizabeth surmises, pouring her vomit into the toilet.

The chunky fluid slaps the still water in the porcelain basin. The thick sound rolls in Elizabeth’s stomach like a bread bun rolling down a hill, making her stifle a gag. Once she has recovered she rinses the steel bucket in the bathtub as she ruminates over an idea that makes the muscular cavern of her stomach churn, as if it is freshly stretched and kneaded dough.

When she returns from the clean lavatory she knows what to do.

“Pearl,” Elizabeth says, in a firm and quiet voice, “I need you to be brave and go into the bedroom until I come and get you. Go now child, and then you can hold my hand for the rest of the day.” 

Pearl looks up unsurely from the couch, her sapphire eyes pools of doubt, ‘she no come back, ma.’ 

“You’re safe little one. Cal gave you his hat, now go,” Elizabeth kindly tells her, as if she knows of Pearl’s unspoken plight. 

“No,” Pearl tweets. 

“Don’t argue with me,” Elizabeth warns with thinning patience. 

Pearl’s sapphire stare is alighted by stubbornness. She crosses her small arms and challenges Elizabeth with her stubborn glare.

“That’s not the bedroom Pearl,” Elizabeth declares. 

“I thtay...I hat...I thtay,” Pearl retorts defiantly. 

Matching Pearl’s defiance Elizabeth stormily walks to the couch and picks up the striped green and white silk upholstered couch cushion from beside the pouting girl. She carries it to the bedroom and lays it on the creamy white stage of the bed. The upholstered cushion stands out like a bad performer in an opera, waiting for its next act.

With an aura of patience Elizabeth returns to the living room to get Pearl, “Come here with me. Let’s go...you have your hat...you have your couch...and you are in the bedroom.” 

Pearl understands that ‘no’ will not work anymore. She submissively sulks to the bedroom, ‘ma never say no. She say no do.’ 

Anne watches the interaction appalled, ‘Why does she not slap the child for not listening? Some socialite she is arguing with a child’. 

Elizabeth returns to direct her patient ire to Anne, “I sent Pearl to the room because I am going to be very candid with you and I can see she is an impressionable child. To me you are a maid. You help Cal, nothing more. I am his fiancée and I deserve your respect, if not for that reason then because I am of higher class and it’s socially demanded of you. I came here because he asked me to help with Pearl,” Elizabeth finishes. 

‘Who does she think she is talking to me like that?’ Anne thinks perturbed, as she digs the fingers of her uninjured hand into the back of the dining room chair.

“That’s obvious,” she snides.

“I don’t appreciate your mutterings!” Elizabeth conveys passionately. 

“Who do you think you are? A wench like yourself playing Cal just for his money. You probably can’t even fondle him properly as a high class girl does. He deserves more than you. A scullery maid. It has been bothering me all morning if you really are his fiancée where’s your ring then? All fiancées, even the poor ones like yourself, have rings,” Anne spits out with her disguised light Italian accent slipping through words fuelled by searing jealousy and deep loathing. 

Elizabeth has never encountered a maid like this, ‘it was always Trudy, Margaret, or Edward and they are all kind and loving towards me. Even Samuel’s maids were at least polite.’

Elizabeth is quiet as she internally seethes for a moment knowing she has to speak with decorum.

“It is not within your duty Anne, to question my existence. I have entered Mr. Caledon Hockley’s apartment as his fiancée. It is not within your duty to question the circumstances of our agreement together.” 

Elizabeth adjusts her posture making herself stiff and dignified. In a low voice she states, “It is certainly not within your duty to descant on our intimate affairs, no matter how intriguing. In my eyes you are just worthy of your hands that clean, dress, and cook. You’re nothing more than your impeccably dirty hands. Do I make myself understood?” 

Anne loathes this woman even more than before. ‘She looks like a harlot and speaks like a debutante from the other side of town. I need to...’ she glances at the ticking grandfather clock as if a timeless retort will spring out on the hour the small hand strikes. Instead her doe eyes widen, ‘make lunch. Lunch. Cal is coming for lunch in an hour!’

Anne’s response to Elizabeth is silence. 

Elizabeth concedes that silence is the only response she will receive. She is fatigued and needs to lie down. She knows she is a non conforming, aristocratic, idealist, who has never had to discipline a maid before. 

She walks to the bedroom where Pearl is quietly sitting on her knees on the large brass bed, stage centre in the burgundy room, designing patterns of an invisible nature. Her small index finger absentmindedly draws invisible patterns of life and loss as they trace along the plush meadow of the cream silk coverlet.

Elizabeth walks up to her and softly asks, “May I join you?” 

Pearl silently nods. 

As Elizabeth lies down on the bed she observes with a contented sigh that the fluffy cream silk pillow “is as soft as it looks.”

‘I am reminded of curling into Silas’s fur on cold winter nights,’ she contemplates wistfully on the comfort that Silas brings and falls asleep.

With her dark locks of hair unraveling around her she is coming to understand what it means to be the woman of the house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * 1910 was the year that the first automobile key was invented. Automobiles were started by a hand crank and a lot of motors got stolen prior to 1910. In 1910 the key was used to prevent theft but a crank was still used to start the automobile. It wasn’t until 1937 or ‘47 (I’m not sure which) when the ignition that we know today was invented by Chevy. 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter.  
> Please feel free to leave any comments I will answer them all.  
> Thank for reading! 
> 
> I will be writing again soon,  
> Mystic of the West


	29. A Tender Hearted Awakening

The mill is functioning as it should when Cal leaves for lunch. The steel walls ring and clang with head splitting noise. The air is thick with smoke and soot. The workers are bustling about and shouting orders over the loud machinery, as if man and machine are vying for each other’s attention.

As Cal stands at the quiet entrance where he can hear the ring of the echo of industrial creation, in the near distance he spots the red automobile like a bonfire on a dark night and knows that Lovejoy has returned. He glances around the entrance and does not see Brauley, the carriage driver, waiting with Fortuna so chooses to go ask Lovejoy how it went with Abe. 

Before he can even open his mouth to inquire, Lovejoy answers his unasked question in a dull voice.

“I was told to pick him up at three o’clock. The midwife’s name is Catherine,” Lovejoy informs him as Cal sticks his black bowler hat covered head into the open window of the automobile.

Cal nods, tapping his hand against the rim of the passenger door, signalling his departure as he hears the heavy steps of Fortuna’s hooves on the dingy pavement. Lovejoy slowly rumbles the automobile engine and drives off, leaving clouds of grey smoke that irritate Fortuna’s lungs with their dusty exclamations.

Her retort to the offending exhaust are loud snorts and coughs from her mossy midnight black nostrils. It is as if nature and machine are in a mind numbing argument. Cal watches her with deep sympathy that swirls like starlight in his gaze as she comes to a regal stop. He rewards her efforts with pats of comfort and deep care on her stygian coat before he seats himself in the carriage and rides back to the apartment.

When he returns to the stale corridor of the third floor apartment hallway and walks on the old wood floors that creak with each step like an old back cracking from neglect and age, he opens the heavy wooden door and hears Anne clanking around in the kitchen. ‘Is lunch not ready yet?’ he thinks as he taps the white kitchen wall as if sending a telegram. 

Anne is alarmed, “Mr...Mr. Hockley!? I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“No, you didn’t. Is lunch not ready yet?” he asks with a stern voice, his stomach gurgling like a creek in a drought, begging for rain.

“No sir, I-I,” Anne stammers. 

“Do you know when it will be ready?” he asks in a clipped tone. 

“Fifteen minutes. It’s vegetable soup with shepherd’s pie sir.”

“Very well, have you seen Elizabeth?” 

“I’m sure she is around here somewhere sir,” Anne answers in a quiet voice as she stares at her dull black strapped shoes trying to keep the disdain from her voice as she thinks about Elizabeth, ‘who is the wench dressing like an aristocrat.’

‘She better not have explored my study,’ Cal thinks with growing trepidation travelling up his spine like a gnarly tree that creaks in a cold winter wind. He does not see Pearl running or toddling around so he assumes that they are together. 

He notices that the bedroom door is slightly ajar, ‘just enough for a child to get through.’ He opens the small gap further as if he is unveiling a hidden tableau that is bathed in quietude and bliss. As he further opens the veiled divide a picture is revealed to him, a picture that awakens his heart. Details that he was blind to before are now obvious as a dark stain on a light carpet. He sees the aged burgundy walls splotched with patches of white where the wallpaper has worn off.

He looks at Pearl sitting on her knees wearing her light blue apron on top of her midnight blue dress from last night, the apron that has faint patches of soot powdered on it. She is threading her fingers lightly through Elizabeth’s chestnut wavy hair. The unravelled tendrils look darker in the dim light, like tree roots surrounded by frost.

Elizabeth is sleeping on her back with one hand on top of her womb, where their sleeping child is protected and growing. 

Cal is touched with profound feelings that surface to the shallows of his consciousness by the sight that is seated and lying down before him. 

Pearl looks up from playing with Elizabeth’s hair and walks with a clumsy gait on the bed. The squeaky mattress hinges perform a soprano choir that is protesting against Pearl’s lightweight as she toddles into his arms. “Pwetty lady theep,” she chirps, still wearing his top hat that is too large and is covering her bright eyes like a dark lampshade. 

“I see that, did you sleep as well?” he asks, as he lifts up the firm rim that is velvety to the touch. He is awarded with a heart opening giggle and glimmering cerulean eyes shining with unhindered youth.

He looks around the bedroom and questions why the striped couch cushion is in here beside the large wooden wardrobe. ‘It is as if it was kicked or thrown,’ he postulates as he studies its pathetic sideways position. 

Pearl looks at him with a small smile and giggles a laugh that only a child can make before she says, “No, I hungwy.” 

“Well then, I think that it’s best that you go wash because Anne told me that lunch will be served soon. Go on now,” he coaxes in a gentle hum.

Pearl does not want to go away though. She gestures to Cal to lean down. She puts her little hand to his ear, her small warm breath tickling the outer shell of the sensitive skin. He feels a giggle erupting from deep within. When she tells him what she needs to say it sobers his reaction. “Thank you for telling me Pearl,” he murmurs with a soft smile.

“Go on now,” his wafting hands encourage as if they are stirring Pearl into the pungent flavours that are visiting the dining room. The white ruffles on the hem of her dark blue dress swish behind her body as she toddles out of the room.

He walks to Elizabeth’s side and kneels down. With a tender touch he grazes her short fingers and brings his lips to her abdomen, kissing her dress where their child is and laying his cheek gently on the velvet fabric. ‘Her dress is so soft.’ 

Elizabeth feels a gentle weight on her abdomen. She does not have to open her eyes to see who it is. The awakened tingles that course down her fingers to her heart centre tell her everything like an ancient language of whispers. Her ignited fingers thread through his dark silky strands. 

Cal loves it when she plays with his hair. Her effortless ease reminds him of how much he is loved by her. “A little sprite told me that you were sick this morning.” 

The sound of his deep and tender voice has her toes curling. “Thank God, for the bucket,“ she quips. 

“I will, I am meeting him after lunch you know. I’ll tell him then,” Cal banters back, keeping a straight face as his brown eyes beam with amusement. 

His witty remark makes Elizabeth’s belly bounce with a drowsy chuckle. 

“The same pixie also told me you fought with Anne,” Cal says. 

“We didn’t fight. I didn’t hit her,” Elizabeth rasps in a serious tone, as she adjusts herself into a graceless seated position. 

“What happened?” he inquires.

“She’s fond of you and jealous of me. I had to put her in her place. She insulted me Cal, in a way that I have never been insulted by a maid before. I told her she was only good for her impeccably dirty hands. I am afraid to eat lunch now. She probably spat in my soup or licked a tomato and put it on my plate,” Elizabeth summarizes, despite her stomach twinging with hunger in protest of her fear.

‘Elizabeth and her imagination,’ Cal ponders with a fond smile.

“What about the couch cushion in the bedroom?” he questions aloud.

“That...oh that was a business arrangement, quite a successful one at that. I think I will take note of it for future endeavours. Alas, my dear fiancé the talk of food has me eager for such nourishment. We will talk of the couch matter another time. May I have the honour of you escorting me to lunch?” Elizabeth retorts with a playful grin in her sleep ridden voice.

He can only oblige her playfulness as he escorts her. 

When they enter the dining room and Elizabeth sees the spread of the dishes laid out ready to serve, she sighs with relief. ‘Anne does not individually serve as Trudy does at home. I can eat relaxed knowing there has been no tampering.’ 

Pearl sits at her spot in a dainty position, licking her small lips in anticipation, fork and spoon in hand, like plate guarding sentries in silver armour.

There is a soft knock at the front door. “I will go Anne. Oh, and Anne, see me in my study after supper this evening,” Cal tells her, as he goes to greet the unexpected guest. 

“Lovejoy, come in, we just sat down for lunch. Lovejoy, this is my fiancée Elizabeth,” Cal introduces as he wraps his arm around Elizabeth’s waist, an action that is both loving and possessive. An action that unconsciously speaks louder then words to two people at once. A movement of strategy in an old room with dingy carpets and peeling walls.

Elizabeth curtsies to the broad man of many weathers before her. She can see his loose jowls shake with disbelief. His small blue eyes are wide with surprise like a dog who has spotted a squirrel. She gives him a delicate smile and greets him with a bow, “How do you do. Please come sit. Anne has prepared a delicious spread of soup and shepherd’s pie,” she welcomes, falling into a well practiced routine of being a hostess.

At the small oval wooden table with carved scalloped edges, Lovejoy seats himself at the empty place across from Pearl. Cal is seated at his customary spot at the head of the table and Elizabeth sits at the other end across from him, bathing in domesticated bliss. 

Pearl watches the old man in front of her and decides to call him, ‘grumpy man,’ in her head.

Lovejoy is not much of a talker, more of an analyzer in silence. An observer in the shadows, like a hound dog in a coop. Seeing Elizabeth for the first time he is surprised in a pleasant way, ‘she is very beautiful.’ 

Lunch is enjoyed by all in silence for a few moments until Elizabeth’s harmonious voice rises in the air like sun over a misty lake, “Do you work with Cal?” she asks Lovejoy.

“I am his valet,” he tells her in a plain tone that reminds Elizabeth of a dull story, ‘a boring tale with no winding ravines or adventures.’

A rhythmic silence ensues, like a quiet countryside afternoon filled with birdsong. It is a melodic silence of chiming utensils against smooth bowls, until Pearl laughs and manages to spray soup across the crisp white cloth, creating minuscule dots of clear liquid as if they are drops of rain. 

Elizabeth is appalled, ‘I need to show Cal that I can correct Pearl’s behaviour.’

“Pearl,” she says in a clear firm voice, “What are you doing?” 

“Mak bubbleth,” Pearl tells her, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. 

Cal coughs out a laugh and covers his mouth before pretending to cough into his white serviette.

“We do not make bubbles at the dining table,” Elizabeth reprimands.

“Why?” Pearl chirps.

“Because it’s not proper behaviour,” Elizabeth explains with a patient tone.

“Un.” 

“Yes, I can see how it’s fun. Right now Mr. Lovejoy is our guest. When we have guests it’s important to have extra special table manners. When there are special guests present at a meal there’s usually an extraordinary desert that awaits,” Elizabeth concludes with a playful grin.

“Ith cweam.” 

“I don’t know what Anne has created and neither will you if you do not stop making bubbles. You are a gentleman, and gentleman do not make bubbles,” Elizabeth states in a firm voice laced with softness and sympathy.

“Gen’lady,” Pearl corrects “Ike you.” 

“Very well then gentle-ladies don’t make bubbles at the table either. We eat like this,” Elizabeth tells her, as she demonstrates how to eat soup in a proper manner. She starts by dipping her silver spoon into the bowl an action that is so quiet the silver does not din against the fine china. Elizabeth fills a small amount of clear liquid onto the concave well of the silver utensil, lifts it to her lips and sips with practiced grace. Not even a slight sound of a sip is released from her peaked lips. All that echoes from this etiquette lesson is a quiet gulp.

Pearl observes with wide blue puppy eyes that study Elizabeth’s every movement. She tries to mimic as best she can. Her little fingers are so preoccupied with holding onto the large spoon properly that she does not make anymore bubbles for the remainder of the meal. 

Cal is in complete adoration of Elizabeth, ‘she did not yell or lose her patience.’ 

Lovejoy cannot quite comprehend Elizabeth. She is an enigma of sorts to him, ‘I can see why Cal is so taken with her. She needs to be watched and understood.’ 

Elizabeth observes Pearl eating with a tender smile, ‘a gentlelady who wears a top hat. I adore this girl.’

She glances at Cal across from her and his heated gaze takes her breath away. ‘He is loving me with his eyes.’ She wants to squirm under their dark intensity that sparks inner flames within. She crosses her legs underneath her purple velvet skirt, not out of discomfort but burning passion and desire within her for him. Her body is betraying her, her primal centre yearns for friction. 

Cal knows. He knows what he is doing to her, he sees the heat of her inner flame rise into her cheeks, dusting her pale skin a passionate red. He can see her blue eyes darken with desire. He sees the control he has over her.

‘I love her and I want her,’ he thinks as he rests his head on his palm, lost in an imagined passionate reverie of Elizabeth, _her wild chestnut mane completely undone and_ _electrified by a loving wind of flame. She arches her back releasing passionate gasps of pleasure through her swollen lips as she pulses her hips below him while inside her he is experiencing a primal ancient embrace. He can feel her warm soft walls enclose around him, as she sighs out her ignited release..._

Lovejoy observes the two adults while Pearl practices her polite manners in her world of innocence, oblivious to the heated conversation of hushed flames as she attempts to eat like a lady. Lovejoy almost smiles at the scene before him...almost. ‘I need to do something before the two adults start to fornicate under the table.’

He clears his throat with a loud cough and startles Cal out of his reverie of desire, causing Cal’s elbow to bonk the table with a satisfying doink sound, like a game of dominoes.

Cal shakes off the pain, ‘I will check for a bruise later.’ 

“Yes, Lovejoy?” Cal asks in a higher pitched tone. 

‘I need to think of something good that would distract them long enough and not have anything to do with the child’s parents. Ah, I know,’ Lovejoy muses with experienced strategy.

“When is the wedding?” 

Cal looks at Elizabeth with complete adoration and desire again as fires of passion dance in his dark gaze. 

‘Wrong question,’ Lovejoy reflects.

“Should have gone for what’s for dessert?” he grumbles as he looks at the small child across from him who is now dipping her fingers in the warm liquid. He sees Pearl pick out a lone carrot coin among the branches of celery in the bowl of warm salted broth and ingest it with a theatrical slurp, as she takes her two slimy fingers from out of her mouth.

“Next month,” Elizabeth states. 

Something loud clatters in the kitchen. “Are you alright Anne?” Cal calls.

“Yes, slippery fingers is all. No harm done sir,” Anne replies in a hurried tone. 

“So Miss DeWitt Bukater...” there was another shrill clatter in the kitchen like metal against ice. Cal gets up to take a look. His chair makes a loud skid sound on the old red stained carpet laid on top of the squeaky wood floor, like a thick voice screaming across a loud room.

In the kitchen Anne is huddled on the floor shaking, her long dark hair is frizzy and unkempt as tears of panic stream down her wide doe eyes.

“Anne, whatever is the matter...Elizabeth could you come here a moment. I found her like this knees to chest. She just keeps saying sorry over and over again,” Cal explains to Elizabeth in an unnerved voice, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in a dance of concern and uncertainty.

“I know what’s wrong. Can you give us a moment please and keep Pearl in the dining room?” Elizabeth says kneeling down in front of a shaking Anne, giving Cal’s hand a comforting squeeze before bestowing upon the distressed maid her undivided attention.

Elizabeth gets up and pours two glasses of water. Anne repeats in a shrill whisper like utensils scraping against each other, “I’m sorry Miss, I’m sorry Miss.” 

“We will talk once you have calmed yourself down. When you are ready I have water for you,” Elizabeth says in a gentle and calming voice like a breath blowing over a drying wound.

After some time Anne calms down and sips from the glass of water. “I apologize for the words I said to you, I really thought you were...I didn’t know you are a DeWitt Bukater,” Anne breathes.

“I didn’t know my name was known outside of the aristocrats,” Elizabeth observes aloud.

“I only know your name because of Trudy. She was my childhood friend before her mother went to serve the DeWitt Bukaters,” Anne explains with a small voice.

“Trudy is one of the finest people I know. She cares for me very much and very well,” Elizabeth says with a fond smile. 

“She does write of your kindness in her letters,” Anne reveals. 

“I apologize for the...” Elizabeth begins to say. 

“No madam I apologize. I didn’t know who you are and spoke very unkindly.”

“I know you are fond of Cal,” Elizabeth tells her in a matter of fact tone.

Anne’s cheeks turn dark red like the colour of the dry blood on her bandage.

“I am contented to know that there is someone who cares for him while I am absent,” Elizabeth confides with a gentle whisper that is as calming as a warm summer breeze. 

Anne nods, too embarrassed to speak.

“That being said Anne,” Elizabeth says in a soft and stern voice, “If you make any sort of advances towards him...” 

“No madam, I would do no such thing,” Anne rushes to say. 

Elizabeth studies her with her intense blue gaze and once she has sensed the sincerity and truth behind Anne’s words she gets up to leave the small kitchen. 

Anne shakes her head. “Fate can be such a cruel trickster. If Elizabeth was any other aristocrat I would bide my time, to make my move on the husband. I will not do that to Elizabeth DeWitt Bukater however, for a reason I am not quite clear on,” she whispers to the tiled floor as if the contrasting colours are a looking glass that shares a new reflection.

Anne will find that very reason is going to arrive in an automobile in the future. She remains taken aback by Elizabeth’s tenderness towards her, “She waited till I was composed and did not yell at me. She did not hit me. She is a tender lady, madam Elizabeth is, veremente.”*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Veremente: truly in Italian 
> 
> Hi everyone, 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. If you would like to share any of your reflections or thoughts about what you think about this chapter or the story thus far, please feel free to do so. I know that’s self explanatory I am just curious is all. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I will be writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	30. Afternoon Adventures and Astonishing News

As Elizabeth is consoling Anne in the kitchen Cal notices that the small brass hand of the tall wooden grandfather clock is pointing to the north of the invisible master of the universe. This invisible force gives and takes from the lives it rules over, searching for grounded strength on the face of an eternal creator, the companion to the illusion and construct of time.

The large brass hand is journeying in the opposite direction of the cosmic illusionist as it directs itself to the south, looking for the fire of light and life.

‘I need to go,’ Cal realizes as he is jarred awake by the single chime of twelve-thirty signalling the entrance of the invisible presence itself.

When Elizabeth leaves the kitchen and walks to the dining room he reaches out and takes her left hand, interlocking their fingers and rubbing the second knuckle of her smooth ring finger, “I must go now. Lovejoy will leave to collect Abe for three. You’re welcome to stay for supper. I can accompany you home,” he informs her in a gentle voice. 

“Yes, that sounds fine. You don’t think that Pearl can see her mother this afternoon?” Elizabeth replies in an absent minded tone as her blue eyes look up at him with deep intensity.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Cal states as he releases their interlocked fingers. He looks at the strong woman before him, frozen with hidden strength. Nervous ticks betray her resolve as she fiddles with the necklace around her neck as if each bead is a thought form for her impending argument. She gazes up at him with determination swirling in her gleaming gaze like a warm sun over turbulent waters.

“It’s her mother Cal.” 

“Don’t think that thought. Do you remember this morning?” 

“If she sees maybe she wouldn’t be scared and we can talk freely.” 

“This is about you now is it?” 

“No, but maybe it’s about you.” 

‘The brazenness of this woman!’ Cal ponders with a fire in his full belly. 

“Me! Why would...” he starts to ask, as he points to his chest as if the simple touch is trying to extinguish the rising intense burning surging within his roots. 

“Would you have liked to have seen your mother?” Elizabeth interjects. 

“The house where a mother lies dying is no place for a child. There...there will be bloody sheets, her skin will look as white as the sheets themselves, she will be sweaty and talk strange. Pearl is better off remembering her mother the way she was,” Cal explains as his deep voice catches with heartbreak, the surging flames within cool as the deep cold of sorrow visits.

“What if her mother is struggling to stay alive? To see Pearl. Waiting but she won’t come, because she is with us. Cal, Pearl is her gift to this world. The little girl who wears a top hat to keep herself safe. Let her be with her child,” Elizabeth counters with a compassionate tone as her hands come up to cradle her heart as if the empty gesture consoles the neglected child within.

“She should not have the memory of her mother dying be the only thing she remembers when she thinks of her mother!” Cal retorts.

“Who are you to deny a chance for a child to be with her mother?” Elizabeth questions with passionate fire.

“You are not her mother Elizabeth,” Cal growls. 

“No, and as far as we know her mother is alive,” Elizabeth rebuts. 

“She’s a child, she won’t understand,” he pleads. 

“Children understand more than you think. Why are you denying her an opportunity of closure instead of hours and days of wondering? If you do not permit us to visit her mother can I take her out then? Not to see her mother, just outside? I will take her and all responsibility if something goes amiss. Lovejoy can come with me. Children need fresh air and she needs to be a child at least a little bit longer,” Elizabeth inquires as she surrenders to the pleading of her heart with dejection visiting in her voice.

“Her father...has suffered a terrible loss,” Cal says, not answering her questions. 

“Did your father wait to tell you?” 

“You are not her mother Elizabeth! Let her father find his courage to tell her. You are welcome to go outside. Let her keep her innocence a little longer...please. Lovejoy will bring you wherever you want to go. This is a less reputable part of the city and I expect the both of you back before three,” Cal’s deep voice insists in a forceful tone before he walks to Lovejoy who is standing obediently at the front like a dog waiting for routine orders.

“You will see to it that they are both protected. They are important to me and you know how I value things important to me,” he rumbles to Lovejoy in deep murmurs as he expresses words that are laced with hidden meaning and protectiveness at the front door.

“I will see to it that they are brought back to you in the same condition they are now in, if not better,” Lovejoy’s responds in a tone of dutifulness. They have had this conversation before and these words are like hay to an excited horse. 

“Good man,” Cal rewards, as he pats the older man on the shoulder, as if he has completed a well rehearsed trick.

~

“Sweetheart, do you want to go outside?” Elizabeth asks Pearl with a kind smile as she kneels beside the small child still sitting on the wooden dining room chair and two plush yellow velvet pillows. 

Pearl looks up from swirling the remaining shepherd’s pie on her plate like chunky red and white paint on a pallet and chirps, “Ma?” 

“Yes, do you want to go and see your ma? We will go on a little afternoon adventure,” Elizabeth further explains with kind blue eyes shining with the prospect of adventure.

Cal walks up behind her and in a soft voice tells her, “Lovejoy will take you. Be safe.” He gives her a chaste kiss on the cheek and with hasty footsteps departs for the mill. 

“This apartment is too small for all of us anyway. I need air to be breathe even if it is factory air,” Elizabeth murmurs aloud as she dons her long black jacket in the living room. With a graceful gait that is exhaled by the winds of haste, she glides into the bedroom, spotting the purple hat and gloves propped up on the ebony armchair covered in cream silk upholstery. It is as if the accessories are large purple leaves adorning a bare branch.

She crams her long mane into the velvet headpiece. Gazing at herself in the tall standing mirror bordered by light wood she nods, surrendering herself to the whimsy of fate. In the reflected shadow she sees Pearl standing at the door with worry etched on her young face. A look that should be denied by those of such few years. She smiles at the little girl in the smooth glass that shines like a full moon on a calm lake and turns to take her small bare hand in her silk gloved hand. They walk down the stale smelling hallway as they follow Lovejoy to the automobile. 

“To Rittenhouse Square please, Lovejoy,” Elizabeth requests as she sits on the chilled dark leather seat that is as cold as stone bathed in the light of night. 

During the hour drive to the anticipated park all of the passenger’s and valet’s thoughts are in different places.

Lovejoy is thinking about how, ‘I have never seen a woman talk to Cal, the way Miss DeWitt Bukater did.’ 

Elizabeth is thinking and trusting that this afternoon excursion will unfold in a smooth manner like a smooth silver lake in early evening light.

And Pearl is thinking, ‘that when the noisy goes fast, all the house be one big line.’ then she thinks about, ‘Pearl no want leave pretty lady and tall man.’

‘Ma,’ her mind babbles as she watches the red brick row houses become moving lines.

Suddenly she sees someone moving fast just like the houses. She knows who it is, “DADADA!” she screams. 

“Lovejoy stop the automobile,” Elizabeth orders. 

“Abe!” Elizabeth calls to the hunched over man who is carrying the weight of grief on his square shoulders and is clearly ignoring her.

She decides to run to him in a careful jog so as not to trip on her long skirt, “Abe, what is...?” Elizabeth begins to ask. 

“I canna...I canna...I canna be talking to ye Miss,” he interrupts in a polite voice that is gruff with grief as his dark eyes are downcast to the dingy pavement looking for relief in the surface cracks of the old stone.

“Listen, Pearl is in the automobile she wants to see you. You are her father, sh...” Elizabeth tries to explain. 

“No, no, no, she isna’ me daughter. Me bairn, me bairn, me bairn, oh Mary,” Abe hollers in a hoarse cry. 

On her own accord Pearl rushes to Abe.“Dadada,” Pearl babbles with a giddy smile on her innocent round face as she rushes in a sturdy run to see Abe.

Abe gives the running Pearl a hostile look that Elizabeth is only too familiar with. She moves in front of Pearl before she can get too close to him, stopping the rushing girl in her tracks.

“I know you’re going through an extremely difficult time now and you are in a very painful mourning period. Cal and I are here to support you in any way we can. I am telling you that your daughter is very confused. She doesn’t know where her mother is and her father won’t talk to her. I need you to explain...” Elizabeth tries to communicate to Abe. 

“I’m no’ her da her ma lov’d ano’ther man who died and was wi’ child before she met me. She...we have only been mar’ried for two years I los’ me bairn an’ wife an’...I canna tak care of another man’s child, it’s wron’, ye can hav her.” Abe explains, “I have seen a lawyer, I dinna want, ye ken. Ye r her mother now, I dinna wan’ her.” 

Abe walks away from the pair as fast as he can, ‘everything I said is true. I don’t want the child, she was never mine. I just want my bairn and Mary. I never liked Pearl anyway, never did. I love her mother.’

Pearl does not understand what is happening, ‘Why da go way? Ma?’ She feels a wave of loneliness cascade over her, before becoming encircled by warm arms, that make her feel safe and loved. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Elizabeth coos as she kneels down on the dirty concrete and embraces the abandoned child, spreading her with light, love, and warmth. Envisioning her arms being angel wings that shroud Pearl in soothing otherworldly light.

“Come let’s see your ma, hold my hand tight,” Elizabeth determines aloud with a fierce fire in her belly. 

Lovejoy drives them to Catherine’s plain brick row house on the small street that looks like another part of the world. At the black front door Elizabeth takes a deep breath before she knocks. Her purple gloves harmonize with the dark wood reminding Elizabeth of a dark tale of many violets.

A kind faced woman answers the soft knock. Lines of experiences that are starting to tell life’s tales, grace her freckled face. Her hazel eyes are downcast and glimmer with exhaustion and the burden of the visiting angel of death. She is wearing a white apron on top of a patched beige skirt.

“Is Mary here? Pearl would like to see her mother,” Elizabeth greets in a professional manner. 

Catherine blinks a few times trying to process the image before her. She has never seen a royally dressed woman standing on her doorstop with a child of a different class before.

“She’s not in a good way miss,” she states in a quiet voice. Her broad figure blocks the view from the rest of the house, as if sneaking a glimpse into the small row house would quicken death’s visit.

“Pearl’s her child. Please do not deny the right to a mother to see her child,” Elizabeth pleads. 

“Mamamama,” Pearl cries expressing her desire for her mother in the only way she knows how. 

Catherine’s determined hazel eyes soften when she looks down at Pearl, ‘she looks so much like Mary.’ 

“Very well, come in,” Catherine decides with a soft smile and shining eyes that are welling with the tears of many feelings.

Elizabeth kneels down and says, “Go on Pearl, go see your ma.” 

As if there is wind beneath her small feet Pearl runs into the room that Catherine pointed to in the corner of the long narrow hallway that is blocked by two wide open wooden doors. Elizabeth stands up. She lives in a very elite neighbourhood, and has never visited the house of a person of little means.

“I know it’s not much,”Catherine begins as if reading her thoughts.

“Especially to a person such as yourself. I canna offer ye any food, just tea. Please sit,” Catherine directs as she leads Elizabeth to the living room that is opposite the room that Pearl ran into.

Catherine gestures to the roughly patched brown corduroy couch that is speckled with feathers yearning to escape from their plush confines.

“Tea would be lovely,” Elizabeth says.

“I only have black.” 

“That will be just fine, thank you.” 

“May I ask how far along you are?” Catherine inquires. 

Elizabeth glances to her flat abdomen trying to feel if her body has started to grow. Laying her hand on top she sighs with relief when all she feels is the small curve that is invisible through the heavy velvet.

Catherine smiles kindly at Elizabeth’s reaction. ‘I can tell she is of special character to sit on my couch as she does and not wrinkle her nose.’

“How did you..?” Elizabeth begins to ask. 

“I’m a midwife Miss...?” Catherine tells her. 

“Elizabeth.” 

“Your man must be of extraordinary character to let a woman such as yourself into our house,” Catherine observes aloud with well disguised Scottish brogue. 

Elizabeth and Catherine exchange small words, leaving Pearl the time to see her mother. 

When Pearl walks into the clean room the first thing she notices is a small wooden bed on wheels and a large metallic tub in the corner where rags with faint splotched bloodstains are draped over the steel edge. She glances over to a mountain of pale blankets piled in the corner that are splattered red.

The air is cold with a chilling stillness and she is afraid. She sees a woman lying still on the bed, both her hands cradling her swollen abdomen that echoes with the life that was growing and now ceases to exist. She does not want to go closer. She wants to call Elizabeth, ‘This is not ma, I no who, not ma!’

“PWETTY LADY!” she screams.

Elizabeth stands up quickly from her seated position on the soft couch, “Pearl what is it? What’s wrong?” she calls.

“Thcawe,” Pearl whimpers, as Elizabeth comes to stand behind her. Pearl cannot take her wide fright filled eyes off the small bed even though her small arms embrace Elizabeth’s velvet purple skirt. 

“It’s alright, I am here,” Elizabeth consoles in a tender voice that is filled with the strength of empathy as she fights against the tears that burn behind her eyes.

She follows Pearl’s gaze and stares at Mary lying on the bed.

Mary knows she is not alone, ‘I am so tired. I want to open my eyes but they feel so heavy,’ she thinks through her heated fever.

She feels a soft touch on her fingers, ‘I know, I know that touch, she came, my Pearl came,’ she contemplates and a great balm of warmness currents over her as if she is floating in the warmest waters of the purest sea. A few silent tears are released from her overflowing relief.

“Pearl,” she whispers so soft it is almost inaudible.

Pearl hears the muted call. “Mamamama,” she babbles in an excited voice. A smile, as if lit from the south, has graced her young face bathing her in its warming glow in the dank room that is weeping death. She clambers on the bed and lays her curly head on her mother’s fevered shoulder. 

‘Oh my daughter is my sole accomplishment in this life. She is my memorable creation. I loved Abe and I know Abe loves me. He is not able to love Pearl. He tried, God knows he did,’ Mary muses when she feels the soft weight of Pearl’s head on her shoulder.

“I love you Pearl. Thank you,” she whispers in a breathy voice that is blown by the winds of love.

She feels the cosmic pull that has visited only once before and feels the ethereal incalescence of an angel that is outlined in the purest light. ‘I am not afraid as I hold my daughter for the last time. When Pearl was born I touched her fingers first and now my last touch will be my Pearl’s fingers,’ Mary thinks, as her weak fingers softly grasp and squeeze Pearl’s fleshy fingers ripe with youth. 

“Mamama,” Pearl cries, not understanding why her mother stopped talking.

“Mamamama!” she exclaims, as she jumps on the bed willing her mother to move, an action that used to elicit a heavenly laugh from the still angelic woman on dark winter mornings.

When her exhausting efforts arise no reverberation of life from Mary, she stops jumping and tilts her head to the side, choosing to curl up beside her mother instead. 

Elizabeth feels silent tears well in her eyes at the cocoon of love and loss before her. ‘Mary looks like an angel with her golden hair cascading around her like a halo. Cal was right this was a mistake...’ Her thoughts are startled out of these musings of betrayal by a loud sound similar to gunshots.

‘But it could not be, could it?’ Elizabeth ponders. 

Catherine confirms her suspicion, “Just men shooting cats Miss Elizabeth don’t worry now.” 

“Why would…?” Elizabeth asks, as she moves towards the thundering sound, a foolish thing really being a woman with child. She opens the front door and a blur of black runs inside and Elizabeth closes the door with feline accuracy.

Returning to the bedroom she sees a flicking black tail from beneath the wooden bed where Pearl is.

‘She needs to be with her mother now and I need to help this cat,’ Elizabeth determines, as she lays down flat on the floor and puts her index finger out to let the cat sniff. It slowly nudges her hand. Slowly and cautiously it creeps out from beneath the bed where Mary’s cooling body lays.

‘This is one of the most beautiful cats I have ever seen,’ Elizabeth admires with silent awe as she observes the black, grey, and white cat that has illuminating golden green eyes and is missing the top part of its right ear.

With brave hands she picks up the matted and grungy cat trusting that it will not hurt her. The second she picks it up and places it on the bed the cat goes right away to see Pearl who babbles, “Kittykittykitty.” If anyone knows about the healing gift of animals it is Elizabeth.

The wooden mantle clock chimes once declaring time’s noisy entrance into the physical world before it passes by in muffled ticks taking life with it. 

Catherine hears banging on the front door, and can clearly hear the demanding call of Abe on the other side, “Catherine I wan’ me wife!”

“You need to leave,” Catherine says in a hushed whisper that is graced with words of haste. Her hazel eyes are alight with protection for Elizabeth and Pearl. In a swift motion like a mother bird ushering her chicks our of the nest she directs Pearl and Elizabeth to her outdoor laundry area.

Her light brown hair with it’s silver sheen is escaping the confines of her wooden comb carved in the shape of a spiralling shell. The light caramel strands gracefully frame her wise round face with wavy curls that wisp in their hurried wind. 

“Go out the gate and by the side of the house. Here’s a box for the cat. Be a good little girl Pearl and listen to Miss Elizabeth now, go!” Catherine directs in a hushed whisper. 

“Catherine open the door!” Abe demands. 

Elizabeth follows the instructions. She hides and watches from behind an evergreen bush by the corner of the front door.

She is trying not to think of Samuel when she does this, ‘I cannot.’

When she sees Abe is inside she takes Pearl’s hand and, holding the large box under her arm, she whispers, “Pearl quickly now.” 

Lovejoy is waiting in the automobile and watching from the other side of the quiet street. He does not want to look suspicious by parking in front of Catherine’s house. Already he has heard the muttered whisperings and seen the suspicious gazes. He has to be very careful not to draw unnecessary attention. ‘I hope that the women will not be too long.’

He sees Abe come to the front door and Elizabeth escaping from view by the side of the house.

Lovejoy slowly drives the automobile so as not to draw more attention from the neighbours and picks them up on the next block down from Catherine’s house. He drives off not even knowing if the woman and child are sitting down.

Elizabeth crumples into the back seat as the car lurches forward. She places her hand on her chest trying to catch her breath and to calm her beating heart. ‘I am having cramps, I need to get back.’

Once the row house district is behind them Lovejoy asks, “To Rittenhouse Square Miss DeWitt Bukater?” 

“No, Lovejoy, to Cal’s apartment, please,” Elizabeth says in a wind of breathlessness.

The cat is yowling in the box and Pearl is quietly giggling. 

~

As soon as Elizabeth enters the apartment she passes Pearl to Anne in the kitchen, puts the cat in the bedroom and slams the lavatory door. She kneels on her hands and knees as she violently retches into the waiting toilet.

There is a sturdy knock on the door and the light voice of Anne passes through, “Are you alright madam?” 

Standing up and withholding a wince Elizabeth opens the door, “A little bit too much excitement that’s all. Can you put my jacket, gloves, and hat by the fireplace, please,” she directs as she takes the glass of water from Anne’s outstretched hand. Grateful for the kind offering.

Pearl toddles into the bedroom in a quiet daze as confused feelings that have yet to be named swirl in her depths. In this room she feels as if she is protected and safe in a sphere of invisible light. In a moment of safety her thoughts flood as she thinks about her mother, ‘I see ma and no see ma, I no stand. Kitty helps. Kitty make safe.’

Entering the bedroom through the adjacent lavatory Elizabeth watches Pearl gazing with wonder at the black cat with multicoloured highlights kneading the cream bedcover in happiness.

She lays her hand gently on Pearl’s shoulder while she kneels down, “I think...” Elizabeth starts, “what do you think this cat’s name should be?” 

“Ella,” Pearl chirps. 

“What about Capella? and Ella for a moniker?” Elizabeth suggests. 

Pearl nods and smiles, “I love Ella.” 

“I need to lie down Pearl. You can ask Anne to give Ella some chicken. We need sand and a box but make sure Ella stays in this room,” Elizabeth conveys as her blue eyes study the dazed child who is heavy with emotional exhaustion. 

Elizabeth has too much going on. Her head is spinning. When she lies down she feels a weight settle on her stomach just above her abdomen.

“You’re welcome,“ Elizabeth murmurs in a soft whisper as her heart slows to a steady beat, calmed by the deep purrs and vibrations of gratitude.

Her last thought before she closes her eyes is, ‘I need to help cats.’

~

Cal is busy in the boardroom trying to figure out how to move forward without promoting Abe. He rubs his face with his hands in frustration and slams his hands on the polished oak table trying to decide which one of his workers is one of the most respected.

He had chosen Abe mostly for the comment he had made when Cal had arrived and how no one had said anything against Abe for speaking up. “He is also one of the oldest workers. There were a few others, but they are not Abe to put it simply.

“Abe has been here longer than myself. What would my father do? He put me in charge of this mill as a challenge, to see how I would fare. Now I am going to be deemed as inadequate.

“This is what I am here for. I am the owner’s son. Father always told me to have the fear and the respect of the men.

“‘ _They need to respect you out of fear, much like a woman,’”_ he would say.

“No, I am not going to treat the men how I treat Elizabeth. I will treat her better than them. I want to be respected not feared. Father is going to leave this company and this mill to me. I need to demonstrate that I am a successful leader. I am not going to do this Nathan Hockley’s way, I am going to control these men my way!” he mutters to the varnished oak table that glistens with the echo of past meetings and ventured conversations.

His inspiring whispered words are interrupted by a knock on the boardroom door. “Yes,” he says in an abrupt tone as he turns towards the closed door.

One of his supervisors pokes his head through the open frame, his clean shaven face smudged with clouds of coal dust. Yet bright, light blue eyes illuminate the soul underneath the dusting of coal powder stuck to the shine of sweat. 

“Sergei, just the man I wanted to see,” Cal greets. 

“Sir, I was on break and lawyer come to me, to see you. Now good time?” Sergei asks with a strong Eastern European accent.

‘As if I am going to say no,’ Cal thinks with a sarcastic lilt in his mind’s voice.

“Do you know what it is regarding?” he replies.

“He did not say, sir.”

“Let him in, and Sergei, I need to meet with the supervisors. I need advice concerning a matter. We can meet after the foremen and other workers leave,” Cal discloses with a calm air.

“Of course, sir.”

“Good man, now back to work.” 

In a dutiful manner Sergei leaves and a man of average height with a thick black beard walks in wearing a midnight blue suit.

“How do you do Mr. Hockley. My name is Bartamouse Crawford. I am a charity lawyer.” 

“We are not a charity Mr. Crawford. As you can see we are a very busy steel mill, in case you can’t discern from the noise and fumes. Now if you excuse me I am very...” 

“I am here on behalf of Abe Faulkner.” Mr. Crawford interrupts. “Ah, I see I have your attention now Mr. Hockley. He came to me in great distress. He has just lost his child and when I last spoke to him his wife was on her death bed. He came to me because he wants,” Mr. Crawford swallows as his eyes shine with sympathy and nervousness, “he wants to surrender his daughter to you.” 

Cal is visibly taken aback as he blinks several times in disbelief and has the urge to sit down, “I don’t understand. He loves his daughter. He was asking for her last night.” 

“Yes, well Mr. Faulkner has a very strong Scottish accent perhaps you misunderstood.” 

“Are you implying...”

“I did not to intend to offend you Mr. Hockley. To put it simply, Mr. Faulkner is not his daughter’s biological father. He doesn’t want her and if you do not want her I can collect her and bring her to the Children’s Aid Society or an orphan asylum where she will be taken care of and perhaps adopted away.” 

Cal is stunned into silence. His father’s voice echoes in his head firmly saying, “‘ _Get rid of the child!_ ’” Cal thinks back to the scene he came home to with Elizabeth and Pearl on the bed.

He knows his decision ‘it is right before my very eyes.’ 

“That won’t be necessary Mr. Crawford. I will take the child, Pearl.”

“Very good sir. Here are her papers, her birth certificate and such.”

“Thank you. May I ask, your suit is made of luxurious textiles Mr. Crawford for a charity lawyer.” 

“I see the question in your mind Mr. Hockley. I am a charity lawyer meaning, I have my very successful practice in the city, but I visit this area of the city to help with cases such as this. Cases like this happen much too often. This was quite cut and dry which is why I could process it quickly,” Bartamouse explains, as his lips turn up into a polite smile through his thick beard.

Turning to leave Bartamouse says, “Congratulations are in order for you I hear. I read the engagement announcement in the paper. Elizabeth is a very becoming woman. Samuel never treated her as she deserved. I hope for her sake you treat her well.” 

“Thank you. Let me show you out of the mill. It can be quite a maze if you don’t know your way,” Cal states, not even acknowledging the lawyer’s words.

The men walk through the mill making idle talk about the bustling men, the steely noise of creation, the thick smell of smoke and sour sweat.

Once outside Bartamouse takes his leave. “Best wishes with your new daughter,” Mr. Crawford says in departure as he enters his automobile surrounded by the ringing quiet of the entranceway with the head splitting noise behind him.

Cal walks back to the board room in a daze, ‘a daughter, I have a daughter.’ He gently lays the brown folder with the precious papers on his desk. 

The rest of the day passes in an evaporating haze. Cal tries to focus on work and not what Mr. Crawford said.

He passes a few hours walking through the mill shouting orders at the foremen who shout the orders on to the workers. ‘I do not know when or if Abe is coming back. This mill will move forward without him, that much I know.’

At the end of the day the supervisors come to meet in the boardroom.

“Thank you for coming to this meeting. We won’t be long, I know you have families to get back to,” Cal greets. ‘I have a family I need to get back to, too,’ he thinks. 

“I called you all here to-day because I need your advice on choosing a replacement for me while I am absent. The replacement I wanted to choose had an unanticipated event that has deemed him unavailable for the position. I would like it to be a supervisor who has the respect of all the men. I am open to suggestions and ideas,” Cal invites in a cordial manner that is shrouded by professionalism.

“What about Elijah?” someone suggests. 

“He has been here only a year,” someone else states. 

“What about Patrick?” someone advocates.

“No he takes too many breaks. He wouldn’t make for a good leader. We aren’t looking for someone we like, we are looking for someone to lead,” John declares. 

“Well said John. Do you know anyone that can fill this position?” Cal encourages. 

“What about Joseph?” Sergei suggests. 

“I’m listening,” Cal says giving an agreeable nod. 

“Well, he is young. He also friend with man who is not here. He is quiet and strong, he watches, men like him.” 

Cal knows Sergei is right, “Alright, he will need all of your support though. Some of the men may react to him, torment him and such. I am comfortable giving him a trial period. Is everyone in agreement?” 

Cal watches the men raise their hands in the air and nods with satisfaction as they all slowly raise.

“Very good. We need stability at this mill or we’re going to flounder. I don’t want to change leadership too frequently. Enough words, all of you can go now.” 

As the men depart from the large boardroom he hears some of the mutterings of the men, “Joseph! Really Sergei? Wha’ you wanted to suggest Mary too!” 

“I stand by what I say.” 

Cal decides that he will spend the day with Joseph at the mill and see for himself. ‘I am definitely not going to invite him for supper. Thinking about supper I need to get home. When did the apartment become home?’ he ponders. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone, 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and the story thus far. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and comments with me, they have brought me a lot of joy.  
> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter or the story thus far. I am always interested to read or thoughts or impressions. I am also open to receiving any feedback you may have.  
> Thank you for reading!  
> I will be writing again soon, 
> 
> Mystic of the West


	31. First Family Supper

Cal walks to the entryway of the mill still reeling from the astonishing news he received. His mind feels as if it is rotating on a carousel of existence. When he approaches the automobile he does not think he can take anymore surprises. Lovejoy gives him a small smile. His weathered face exposes his bright dimples and reminds Cal of a dim light in a dusty room shining with cobwebs.

“How did it go with Abe?” Cal asks, looking sideways at Lovejoy driving, as he itches with curiosity for the man he tried to help.

“He did not want to see his daughter, he wanted to go to the train station,” Lovejoy tells him as he travels the path of a risky fib, only telling half a truth of an afternoon that was filled with two adventures. He left out the first one of driving Elizabeth and Pearl to Catherine’s house and back, relating only the second one with Abe, where he drove to the requested train station.

“Do you know which train?” 

“New York.” 

‘Ah, good old Lovejoy always going beyond the call of duty,’ Cal admires.

“Did my valuables get returned to me?” he inquires.

“Yes.” 

“Did they have a good time?” 

“Enlightening is a good word to describe it I think.” 

Cal is too overwhelmed with the events from the afternoon and with Lovejoy being unusually talkative.

His fingers spiral, tracing the etched engravings of his gold pocket watch, as he contemplates on the invisible force of time. ‘With Elizabeth’s child I have nine months I believe, to get used to the idea of being a father. With Pearl...’ He glances at the hidden face of his gold pocket watch, watching the hidden ruler of life rule with each tick of past, present, and future seconds. He gulps before clicking it shut, shutting an insignificant door that hides the face of the eternal ruler, before slipping it back into his black wool waist jacket. ‘I have three minutes. It feels more like three seconds.’ 

“You are welcome to join us for supper Lovejoy,” Cal invites with stiff casualness, his dark eyes focused ahead on the grey driveway that showcases the brick apartment building. 

“As delicious and entertaining as your suppers are I think I will eat alone to-night. Your Elizabeth is very cunning,” Lovejoy tells him, as he turns off the engine of the automobile outside of the apartment building.

Cal glances up at the windows of the third floor, where a bright yellow light shines through the windows, beckoning him with the call of home. 

That is the last word of the evening as Cal and Lovejoy go their separate ways, trudging up the stairs in companionable silence, a welcome air of normality to Cal’s tired ears. 

Arriving at his front door Cal studies the wood divide, the smooth wood free of any scratches or etchings, a barrier that has been victim to the knocks of change. He studies it for a few seconds, ‘is there something different about this door? No,’ he concedes, ‘it’s my life.’ 

When he walks into the apartment he is greeted by a smiling Anne.

“Good evening sir. Supper is almost ready. I made roast duck with orange stuffing sir, and roasted red cabbage with apples. I warmed up the leftover soup from lunch, and I also made a brussel sprout salad. There is chocolate pudding for dessert, as well sir. I have been cooking since you left this afternoon,” Anne greets with a cordial smile that shines with pride like a bright morning bird song after a spring rain.

“I am looking forward to this meal,” he tells her with a sincere smile as he walks past her lithe form setting the table.

Anne’s long slender fingers constrict around the silver utensils as sparks of desire enter her nose when she smells Cal’s strong scent of spicy smoke and earthy sweat.

She releases a pained gasp from her injured hand that is alighted in protest as if it is a brand of a promise kept, igniting when betrayed. Her injured palm carries an indent of the echoing experience of Cal’s wafting scent.

“Oh sir, madam was sick again this afternoon, thought you should know,” Anne tells him, as she walks back into the kitchen.

He silently nods and continues his way to the study. Remembering his subconscious mission. He found an engagement ring for Elizabeth, and has been meaning to give it to her. He had it in his pocket when he went to her house for dinner with his father, but she had her fit and then it was all headlong.

He could not find the right chance, ‘to-night is the right time,’ he thinks, as he pulls open his wooden drawer with the brass handle. The sturdy sound of opening to a new beginning fills the silent air. ‘I would have liked her mother and sister to be in attendance. Alas, this is going to a significant moment between us.’

He closes the desk drawer and takes a deep breath as a trilling bird song visits his being with a soprano serenade of love. ‘I want Elizabeth to have one of my mother’s rings that I gave her for a Christmas long ago,’ he decides as he examines and holds the ring in his thumb and index finger. The token of his affection looks small and more delicate between his large slender fingertips, as he grounds himself in an old memory that is fuzzy with events; and yet, shines with love.

He recalls his mother’s beautiful face framed with ringlets of dark brown hair and her illuminating grey eyes that shone as bright as the full moon on a dark night. To his young eyes her smile was as radiant and eternal as a star.

“ _Father said that a diamond is the only gift for an important woman. And you are an important woman mother_ ,” _a young Cal chimes as he transfers the gem from his small hold to his mother’s awaiting right ring finger._

In his study, he shifts the ring to his palm and holds it in his fist for the final time, before it is bestowed to its new owner.

Gazing at his mother’s modest ring, he knows it is right. Even in the dim light the solitaire diamond shines. It is mounted on a gold band that has floral engravings on each side.

“Now I just need to find my fiancée,” he murmurs with an anticipatory sigh. 

He hears light giggling coming from the bedroom and follows the unfamiliar sound.

Pearl is lying down beside Elizabeth who has a black cat on her stomach.

With soft blue eyes that are filled with tenderness and love, Elizabeth watches Pearl pet the purring cat in small gentle strokes as her young fingers touch a new entity.

He can hear the contented feline sounds from the doorway. ‘She looks so beautiful and relaxed.’

Cal enters in careful steps, being an intruder to the calm air. The light is dim so he turns it on, alerting to his disturbing presence. 

Elizabeth knows Cal has arrived when the room becomes brighter. He kneels down beside her and she gently places her hand on his angular cheek, and caresses her hand over his clean shaven stubble. He leans into the touch and kisses the inside of her wrist. She shivers with pleasure knowing he has found, ‘one of my hidden spots.’

Her hand moves to touch his glossy strands of hair, ‘this time it feels more dingy and grainy to the touch and yet, I love his hair.’

This moment is bathed in light and love with the company of a giggling child and the deep purrs of a cat. 

Cal does not want to speak but his tongue betrays him, “Who is this?” he asks.

His deep voice reverberates to Elizabeth’s core making her shiver and her toes curl once more. Her insides are alight with tingles. 

Cal gives her a smug sidelong glance, knowing what the sound of his voice does to her.

‘Bastard,’ Elizabeth concludes with a silent whisper of playfulness. 

“Ella,” Pearl’s excited chirp, pulls Elizabeth her from her pleasurable thoughts. 

“Capella,” Elizabeth confirms.

“Ella is just the moniker. Men were shooting at her and...”with ginger effort she wiggles herself to sit up and carefully slides the black ball of vibrating fur off of her stomach. Her feet root themselves on the floor in front of Cal’s kneeling stature.

Ella readjusts herself. After giving an entertaining stretch she pursues the art of curling up into a tight ball and stays asleep on the safe island of the cream covered bed. 

Elizabeth’s calm expression grows serious. She looks down at her lap, too afraid to meet Cal’s curious gaze. She starts to play with her fingers as she feels her body beginning to tremble with panic. 

Cal stays kneeling on the ground in front of her. He lifts her soft round chin with one hand and gently caresses the dimple in her chin beneath her plump lower lip. He stills her twiddling fingers with his other hand. ‘Those fingers of hers,’ he muses with his dark eyes soft with fondness, as they start to wring his fingers creating rivers of electrified bumps on his hand.

Cal’s lips are yearning to twitch into a smile but he does not want to seem as if he is smiling at her. ‘She is clearly in some sort of distress,’ he observes with concern. When he looks into Elizabeth’s beautiful blue eyes he can see they are on the verge of tears.

In the softest voice he can muster that is close to a deep whisper he asks, “What is it?”

Elizabeth knows she has to tell him, ‘but what if he...but he said he will not. Cal’s a gentleman, a man of his word. I know I have to tell him,’ she surmises with a deep breath. 

“I took Pearl to see her mother,” she confides to him with a timid sigh, as she holds his intense gaze. “I was going to do as you told me to. On our way to Rittenhouse Square I saw Abe walking. He...he told me something about Pearl. I knew, I knew Pearl needed to see her mother. 

“I met Catherine and she brought us to Mary. She was so weak Cal. When Pearl touched her hand she smiled, she whispered to her that she loved her. Then she stopped breathing. Pearl looks just like her. She died smiling and glowing. 

“Then there was a gun shot and I went to investigate. Catherine, who is a very lovely lady, told me that they were most likely shooting a cat. I went to the front door and this black blurb goes by and then she, not right away mind you, only after I got her to come out from under the bed, Ella went to go and see Pearl.” 

Elizabeth does not know why getting out of the house had been so terrifying for her, ‘but it was.’ 

Cal can see there is more, ‘her eyes are flitting back and forth and the cavern of her mouth is opening and closing in shallow puffs.’

A few spheres of tears fall from her eyes but he does not want to wipe them away, ‘not yet.’ Remembering one of his mother’s lessons when he was a little boy and he fell down the stairs. She told him, “ _When you cry Caledon, my handsome prince, I am not going to wipe your tears. I want to let them fall for a little bit, so you know that it is all right for a man to cry and there is no shame in crying._ ”

“Just when Ella got comfortable,” Elizabeth begins heralding Cal out of his memorable thoughts as she recalls the adventurous afternoon , “Abe came to the door. He was back so soon I don’t know...Anyway we had to sneak out of the house. I saw his back going into the front door. Lovejoy was waiting for us a block away. I was terrified Cal. It reminded me so much of Samuel...” Elizabeth’s soft voice cracks and she breaks down, bawling. The tears cascade down her cheeks like rain. 

Pearl turns around, her sapphire eyes wide with concern. 

“Pearl go wash up for supper. Ask Anne to help you,” he tells Pearl before he focuses his attention on Elizabeth. He guides Elizabeth to her feet and sways her in a loving embrace. “Shhh...shhh...shhh I’m here, sweet pea, let it go. You are safe, Samuel can’t hurt you anymore, I’m so sorry he did,” he murmurs to her shaking form with deep tenderness as he kisses the side of her maned head.

He chooses to sit down on the bed and rests against the cold brass headboard that is guarded by the white silky velutinous pillows. He guides a blubbering Elizabeth with him.

With Capella by their feet at the end of the bed he whispers in a tender tone, “You need to calm down, the stress is not good for the child,” as an old memory comes to visit of his father saying that phrase to his mother.

In a loving motion Cal splays his hand across her flat abdomen.

“Will you hate it?” Elizabeth whimpers.

Cal is bewildered, “Who or what are you talking about?” he asks with wide deep brown eyes as confusion flits in his gaze, like a hummingbird confusing a bright light for a flower.

“The child,” Elizabeth says, joining his hand and interlacing their fingers cradling the unborn life. “Abe doesn’t want Pearl because she’s not his biologically. Will you do that if we have more children, love them more because they are yours?”

Cal thinks about what she is saying, and he knows his answer, ‘I have known it all along.’ 

“No. I love you, I love Pearl, and I love this child because it is a part of you, not just Samuel. I will be the child’s father in the only way that truly matters. It will look different but that won’t matter because it will be mine. I will be its papa,” he conveys to her with deep emphasis and a proud smile.

Elizabeth loves this man so much she looks into his warm brown eyes with a small smile on her face, “Papa?” she teases.

“I want it to grow up in different circumstances then I did,” he simply states with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders.

“We can’t even spend a day apart Cal.” 

“I know, love is merciless,” he retorts in a playful manner and a heated sidelong glance.

“What’s going to happen to Pearl?” Elizabeth asks as she looks to the closed bedroom door with worry.

He smiles and sits up, much to the chagrin of Elizabeth.

‘I was comfortable,’ she grumbles with a silent pout.

Cal kneels, both knees on the cream covers, and smiles at a contented Capella stretched out at the foot of the bed with both her black paws crossed and her closed eyes serene slits. The ruffles in her black grainy fur vibrate ripples of happiness with each deep purr.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” he swallows for dramatic effect. “This afternoon a lawyer came to visit me. He told me that Abe made legal arrangements for Pearl to be adopted by me. I signed papers and he gave me her birth certificate. 

“As of this afternoon I have a daughter, her name is Pearl. If you are going to be in my life I need to know that you will be her mother. I don’t want her to forget who her birth mother was. I want you to be a mother to her and when we have more children don’t hold them to a higher standard. Love them all uniquely the same. Do you think you can do that?” Cal queries with sincere curiousness swirling in his deep loving gaze. 

“Of course,” Elizabeth accepts in an eager tone, preparing herself for an unanticipated journey. 

“Good. There is something else I need you to do, I need you to be my wife,” he tells her in a voice of seriousness. 

“Cal, I am already going to be your wife,” Elizabeth states bemused.

“Yes, well, while that may be true my dear, you are missing a very significant token on your finger that tells the world of my love for you.”

He reaches into his black pant pocket and takes out the ring.

“This was my mother’s. I bestow it to you for safe keeping until our wedding day. Certain circumstances kept me from giving it to you, but they were all leading us to this irrevocably perfect moment. I love you Elizabeth. Would you please do me the honour of marrying me and accepting this ring as a first step in the lifelong commitment to be my wife?” he proposes with a deep love and fondness for both the woman and the new life before him. 

“Yes, I do,” Elizabeth vows to him in a tender whisper and a trill of a giggle. 

He gracefully places the ring on her finger and they share a kiss of passion that is ignited as twin flames spiralling and twisting around each other in a writhing dance, as they fall into an empowered embrace with Cal landing on top of Elizabeth.

‘I cannot stop kissing the enchanting vixen in my arms.’ He is peppering her smooth neck in open mouthed kisses while Elizabeth erotically scrapes his scalp and releases light laughter and soft contented sighs. She can feel his hands pulling her dress up past her knees.

The closed bedroom door opens and a small voice says, “No kitty, no out, thtay, tall man an pwetty lady pu time.” 

“Thank you sweetheart, we will be right there,” Cal says, as he lays on his back beside Elizabeth, gazing at the ceiling trying to recover his dignity with heaving breaths of surprise.

Busy getting herself rearranged, Elizabeth cannot help but stare at the token of love on her finger as she smooths her purple wrinkled velvet skirt.

“The ring is very beautiful Cal,” she states, her breath a calm breeze in the flustered air.

“I just remembered I have to telephone Trudy and ask to be picked up after we talk with Pearl. My mother won’t be happy that I haven’t telephoned her yet,” she mumbles.

“I can tell Pearl.”

“We are her parents now Cal. What we do concerning our children we do together,” Elizabeth determines with firm strength. 

“Lovejoy...” 

“No, it makes more sense at this hour for my driver to come. I will be back tomorrow, but I don’t know about Thursday as I have an appointment with the midwife,” Elizabeth interrupts.

“Midwife?”

“To check on the progress of the baby. I just don’t know when in the afternoon it will be,” Elizabeth answers as she playfully grabs his hand and hoists him from the bed.

“We should go to supper sweet pea, you and the baby need to eat. It has been an exciting enough day as it is,” Cal tells her, with a tender gaze as he closes the bedroom door behind them. 

Elizabeth admires the nourishing spread of food in multiple earthy colours of green, orange, and purple. She watches the fragrant steam from the warming meal flaunt an aromatic dance before her, beckoning her to join for supper with her family. 

“This looks delicious Anne, thank you,” Elizabeth tells her with a kind smile as she looks into the dutiful brown doe eyes of Anne. 

“No need to thank me madam. I’m just doing my duty,” Anne communicates with honest humbleness. 

“Well you do it very well,” Elizabeth further praises. 

Ella is scratching at the closed bedroom door, as if it is merely a wooden log that is there for her amusement.

“Anne are all the windows and doors closed that go outside?” Elizabeth asks, while she gracefully sips a spoonful of soup. 

“Let me check...Yes, madam.” 

“Pearl you can go and let Ella out of the room now,” Elizabeth tells her with a kind smile. 

With an excited smile the little girl wriggles out of her seat and runs to let Capella out of the bedroom. 

Released from the lonely room Capella sees the couch, and saunters to it. She jumps up lightly onto the smooth upholstery and falls asleep to the lullaby of a comforting silence and light voices. ‘They do not chase me with loud rocks.’ 

Supper is continued in silence until Pearl says, “I thee ma I thad.” 

Cal pushes his chair back. The wooden feet skid on the floor with a thick sound and a protesting groan of weighted grief. He opens his arms wide as his heart centre opens with compassion and grace, “Come here sweetheart.” 

Pearl slowly toddles into his arms and clambers onto his lap as she sniffles and wipes her leaking nose with the back of her small hand.

“Your ma told you that she loves you right?” Cal queries, his words tissues of softness.

Pearl nods and releases a few more tears.

He continues to explain in a very soft kind tone as he remembers his experience with his mother, “That love won’t die. Love is a spark that endures and sometimes it wanes and changes form. But a parent’s love, that love, will not ever die. She gave you life darling. She loves you very much. Do you understand?” 

Pearl nods before she mutters in a small voice so quiet it sounds like the muted call of a baby chick, “I wan momma.” 

“I know you do sweetheart,” he acknowledges with an ache of empathy and phantom yearning. 

“Pearl?” Elizabeth asks, waiting to have the little girl’s attention.

When Pearl looks at her with her teary sapphire eyes, Elizabeth asks, “Would you like to go to the park with me tomorrow?” 

“Ye.”

“Pearl. Go eat as much as you need to, and then we will have dessert in the living room,” Cal conveys with a newfound gentleness.

Anne has cut the duck into small pieces and gave her smaller utensils than at breakfast and lunch, so Pearl does not have trouble eating this meal. She holds the small silver utensils in her closed fists swaying them in a clumsy dance as she stabs cubes of duck breast and purple cabbage strands bringing them to her mouth.

Elizabeth’s blue gaze flits back and forth between admiring the little girl sitting on her right and the glinting engagement ring on her hand, reflecting the bright light that mirrors a waltz of sphered diamond rainbows on her purple skirt.

Between her flitting vision she glimpses Cal across the small table sliding his fork meticulously around in complex patterns as if he is an artist, the plate is his canvas, and the colourful food is the paint.

Elizabeth thinks back to a past art lesson with Rose, ‘what colours did Rose say make purple and orange again? Right, blue and....red make purple. And red and yellow makes orange.’ Elizabeth revisits the creative memory with a soft smile, of being in Rose’s secret studio and watching her angelic sister flaunt on the wings of creation. 

She reaches across the oval dining table for his left hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

Cal gives her a small smile and his eyes are shining softly with love. She can see, though, that his gaze is in two or more places. ‘I know he must have a lot going on at work that I am not privy to and it would be very inappropriate to ask. I would probably not be of much help anyway.’ 

They continue to eat in silence until Pearl drops her silver utensils. They clang and ring loudly against the varnished wood. This clamour is followed by her screaming, “I’m DONE...DONE...DONE!”

“No you’re not, a gentle lady does not scream at the table. I would like you to come back and try that again before dessert, please,” Elizabeth communicates to her in a soft severe voice. 

Pearl watches Elizabeth intently. Elizabeth returns the little girl’s intense gaze, ‘that shines like a thousand sapphires,’ Elizabeth reflects. 

‘Ma laugh when I do that, why no pretty lady laugh?’ Pearl thinks as she says, “You no wauth.” 

Elizabeth nods, “You’re right I didn’t. I was told and taught to quietly leave the table. Do you think if I show you how a gentle lady leaves the table you could follow?”

Pearl nods, as Elizabeth begins to teach an etiquette lesson, “She has both her feet flat on the floor, she sits straight, she pushes her chair back while having both feet on the ground, and when she is finished eating she pats her mouth with a serviette and...runs!” Elizabeth reveals with a loud laugh surprising Pearl as she scoops her up from her chair and lifts the small girl up in her arms and twirls her around. 

Cal has a hand on his heart to steady its beating. He puffs out a breath of surprise, ‘No wonder Elizabeth never finished finishing school, she is too untameable.’ He watches the twirling pair with enamoured eyes in complete adoration of Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth loves the sound of Pearl’s chiming laughter, ‘it is an innocently pure sound. I want her to laugh like this for as long as possible. Children are gifts, cosmic gifts, that are bequeathed and they all have a right to be loved. I know that is not possible for all children. That is a privilege, being loved as a child. I did not laugh enough when I was a child, not like this.’

“I love you Pearl,” she whispers, as she sets her down with gentle hands that echo with invisible love.

Pearl wraps her tiny arms around Elizabeth’s velvet skirt. Elizabeth can feel her fingers caress the soft fabric. In this quiet moment she silently vows, ‘to tell my children how much I love them, whenever I want, so they know they are loved and wanted.’ 

“Come, let’s go sit in the living room with Ella and the fire,” Elizabeth coaxes in a gentle manner as she holds Pearl’s small hand, guiding her to the stretching cat on the couch.

A loud spark of the fire startles Ella. Her golden eyes are now just a halo around a black orb, and her body is filled with fright. She sees the approaching pair and with stealthy steps prowls to Pearl’s vacated seat in the dining room.

Cal watches his two women with devotion. He knows it is time to tell Pearl. 

“Anne we are ready for dessert and tea. You’re welcome to pudding as well and whatever we didn’t eat on the serving plates. I don’t like leftovers.” 

“Very well sir.”

Grateful to eat the food she made, Anne clears the table leaving the serving dishes out for later and brings the chocolate pudding and tea on a silver tray.

“Join us please Anne,” Cal commands.

“But sir.”

“Bring Elizabeth’s chair from the dining room.”

Anne does as she is told and sits on the chair by the border of the yellow carpet that is in the living room. Pearl is seated in between Elizabeth and Cal on the striped couch.

“I asked Anne to join us because there is going to be a change in living situation. Pearl your father...there is no easy way...to...” Cal begins in a tone of hesitance.

“Da no ike me,” Pearl expresses in an honest voice of clarity.

“How do you know this?” Cal asks with genuine surprise looking down at the observant child.

“Children know when they are not liked Cal,” Elizabeth interjects in a quiet voice that is suffocated by thickening shadows.

“He loud me huwy my eaws. Ma I love ma, I love da fow ma,” Pearl explains.

“Well,” Cal says, “your da signed this paper telling me that I am going to be taking care of you now.”

“You da?” Pearl asks.

“Yes, if you like. Can I call you Princess Pearl now?” he asks, with a dashing smile.

Pearl hugs him with a giggle. ‘He says princess nice. I like he say it.’

“There is more,” Cal continues as he stares at the child who is leaning her large head on his shoulder. “I am to marry pretty lady.” 

“Mawwy? Ma?” Pearl wonders with her adorable golden curled head tilted to the side.

“Not quite, marry like...” Cal starts to explain flustered gazing up at the sparking fire for inspiration.

“Like Cinderella or Prince Charming, princess and princes, kings and queens, like the tales of old Pearl!” Elizabeth interrupts with an excited grin. 

“ohnI don...” Pearl mumbles before she starts to cry. She does not understand what they are saying. ‘I want ma. I no know.’

She feels the stabs of invisible hurt and pain all over and she cannot stop crying. She crawls further into Cal’s lap curling herself into as small of a ball as possible, like a scared pangolin. Cal’s strong arms hold her, ‘I like him he nice,’ her mind mumbles in comfort.

She cries into Cal’s shoulder, who lowers his dark eyes in shame, ‘It is too soon.’ His and Elizabeth’s excitement for their future together made them forget that Pearl is in the past.

He moves to get up but Pearl says, “No go, I thtay, I thtay pwetty lady. I love ma, I love pwetty lady. I have bo.”

“You can have both.” Elizabeth moves to kneel beside her while she is in Cal’s arms. “I want you to know that I am going to be here, Pearl, for as long as you need. I want to be your friend Pearl. Will you let me be your friend?” Elizabeth asks with deep tenderness as she lays a calming hand on Pearl’s trembling back.

Pearl nods.

“Alright then.” Elizabeth takes a deep breath and looks at Cal who nods, “As your friend I am going to tell you something very important...”

Cal looks at Anne with a hard stare, “Anne, what Elizabeth is going to tell Pearl you must hold in the strictest confidence. If anyone who is not supposed to know, does, I will dismiss you and make it very difficult for you to find a way to help elsewhere. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good.”

“Something very important. I am going to have a baby Pearl,” Elizabeth reveals with a heavy heart.

Inside she is torn, the two universal poles of life and death are visiting in this moment and she does not know how to let a three year old grieve. She has lost people in her life before, people who were cruel to her. Their death leaves complex scars on her heart. ‘To lose someone you love…I cannot imagine the pain and confusion both Cal and Pearl have suffered, and in this moment are.’

Elizabeth waits to see her reaction, “Ma ha baby.” 

“I know your ma had a baby and…” Elizabeth does not know quite what to say as she stares into a fog of mental obscurity.

‘I do not know if I am going to die in childbirth. I hope not, but that does not seem like the right answer for Pearl,’ she contemplates before she receives and creates her answer from within.

“What happened to your ma is bad, horrible, and a tragedy. And I would be lying to you if I told I am not scared. You are a gift to the world Pearl and you will learn that you too have this gift.

All women have this extraordinary gift. Do you know what it is?” Elizabeth asks.

Pearl silently shakes her enraptured head.

“It’s the gift of life Pearl, when a...”Elizabeth swallows. ‘Samuel had some good in him,’ she reflects, as she feels herself slowly falling into an abyss of thoughts and swirling memories.

She feels Cal’s soft, sturdy, tingling touch on her hand and with gentle force he squeezes her delicate fingers in comfort. He gives her a soft smile and his brown eyes shine with love, like silver granite in dark stone.

With silent encouragement he orders her to continue with a single nod, “When a particular man and woman come together and they love each other in a very specific way something magical happens and the woman has this special power to give life.

“Creating with this power does not come without risks and dangers but when the danger is all over...the gift, the gift is a baby, Pearl. Having a baby is exercising my power as a woman. You don’t want me to stop practicing my power do you?” 

“No, no go.” 

“I don’t want to go and neither did your ma.”

“Thee go...why?”

“To make you stronger love,” Elizabeth tells her.

Cal looks at her perplexed ‘what did she just say?’

“You can visit your ma in your dreams did you know that? Do you want to know how?” Elizabeth invites with the wistful smile of many dreams.

Pearl nods with an eager smile, her golden curls bouncing with the rapid movement of excitement. Her sapphire eyes glimmer with hope and love.

“When you go to sleep to-night, with all of the love you have for your ma you say, ‘“I want to see my ma,’” and if you need to you will,” Elizabeth explains.

Pearl scrambles out of Cal’s arms, fuelled with excitement for her cosmic adventure, “I go see ma.” 

“Alright, good night Pearl,” Elizabeth tells her with a loving smile.

She runs back and says, “Good ni pwetty lady, I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart. Your papa will go and help you brush your teeth. I’ll telephone home.” 

“You’re not staying the night madam?” Anne asks.

“No, Anne. That would be highly inappropriate,” Elizabeth tells her with a a head shake as she walks to the study. 

Anne does not know what to think about what she just heard. ‘I just asked out of pure curiosity. They are practically married anyway. What harm would there be in her staying the night?’

In the bright light of the study Elizabeth calls home. “Hello Trudy, I am ready for the automobile and I am very tired. If you could make a bath with some dried chamomile flowers in it and a cup of ginger tea that will be exactly what I need before bed.”

Seeing that Elizabeth is on the telephone, Cal walks in and puts his hands on her wide hips. He draws invisible constellations with his fingers all over her velvet covered torso as he sniffs her neck, leaving butterfly kisses on his scented trail.

He gently worships her neck, shoulders, and face with his lips and nose. He can feel her skin become alive under his devoted attention. His ministrations are heating her inner flame.

“Hello mother, I am...I apologize I have been gone all day. I-I told you I would be. I will b-b be home soon. I will need to be here tomorrow a-as-as well. Yes, I know, I have the midwife appointment on Thursday. Cal is calling. I have to go.” With clumsy haste she hangs up the telephone with a loud ‘clang.’

“You sniffing my neck like that was not needed as I speak with my mother. She was scandalized you know,” Elizabeth chastises as she pokes Cal’s chest with a small smile tugging at her betraying lips of playfulness.

“You are the most enchanting, adoring, alluring woman I have ever met. Being with you is as if to be in the presence of a goddess,” he can only rebut.

“I am flattered darling, but don’t rise me so high up and hold me to such high standards for if I were to fall...” 

“I will catch you and help you rise again with grace and beauty that only you can create. As of this moment I am unconditionally and absolutely in love with you.

“You have been beaten, broken, treated and touched in a way that no man should ever treat or touch a woman and here you are opening your heart to me. Sweet pea, all I can say is, thank you. For having the strength to give and receive love,” he expresses to her in tender words and a loving tone as he pulls her ever closer in an embrace that yearns to never let go.

Elizabeth turns around and kisses him as if she has never kissed him before. Her heart is alight. She is filled with the most soft shining yellow light behind her closed eyes. In this moment she is vibrating with love and warmth. She feels his strong tongue explore her mouth and her tongue follows, tangling with his in a tender and heated caper. ‘His taste is so strong, he is so beautifully handsome, and he knows it too. I want to do more, much more.’

“Cal I need...I need,” she whispers, against his ear as his lips are exploring one of his favourite hidden, not so hidden spots behind her ear.

He has brushed her thick hair away to the side so he can explore the smooth expansion of her skin. The cold stones around her neck offer his lips a cool respite from their heated pursing.

“What do you need, sweet pea?” he whispers from the crook of her neck. His lips lightly graze her heated skin with each word he breathes. His breath is as rich and warm as his voice.

Elizabeth gently pushes him away, puts her hands on his shoulders, looks him directly in the eyes and tells him, “I need you.” She gently caresses his bulging sheath, knowing the gift of pleasure it reigns on her, “Inside of me.”

He closes his lust filled eyes, shielding his want and need, “We can’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Because my dear, this apartment is very small, and you are not exactly the quietest of creatures!” he growls with straining passion. 

“I can be quiet. What if we go in the lavatory and put water in the bath, and we can unite on the windowsill?” Elizabeth suggests with whispered heat.

“You have this all figured out don’t you?” he asks with dark eyebrows raised in amusement.

“I have been desiring you all day darling,” Elizabeth states in a voice of vulnerable honesty.

‘I have been feeling the necessity for her as well,’ he admits to himself.

“Alright, we must be cunning, because of Anne. She is still awake,” he surrenders to his burning passion, ‘my reputation be gone.’

Elizabeth formulates a plan, “I will open the study door and take a peak. You compose yourself as a gentleman and go to the lavatory by your bedroom.” 

“You are a vixen,” Cal mutters with a charming smile as he strokes his chin, deep in fantasies of desires.

Elizabeth takes a deep breath and carefully opens the study door. Anne is not in sight. She then sneaks on the sides of her feet and opens the lavatory door and closes it. It makes a ‘click’ that is almost too loud. 

In the kitchen Anne thinks that the apartment is too quiet. Pearl has gone to bed, the pudding is in the fridge for tomorrow. She peaks over the side of the kitchen wall and sees Cal walking from his study. ‘Probably just checking on Pearl,’ she muses. 

“Did madam, leave?” she asks, startling him.

“No she is just resting in the study,” he tells her, as he clears his throat, “Don’t disturb her Anne. She is very tired, being with child and all. Best let her come out on her own.” 

“Of course, sir,” Anne acknowledges as she sees him quietly enter the bedroom.

Pearl is curled around Ella. ‘They are too small for the bed or the bed is too big, either way it is one of the most adoring sights, I have ever seen.’

“Aren’t they darling? Darling?” he hears his enchanting vixen whisper in his ear with that sultry voice of hers.

“They are, but I know of a darling who is in desperate need for my attention. Is that not right, sweet pea?” he asks in a husky voice.

“It is. Come I already put the water in the bath on,” Elizabeth whispers with heated breath. These simple words are kindling to his flaming being. They allure and call to him, yearning for ancient caresses.

Elizabeth takes his hand and guides him into the bright room.

The light is brighter in the lavatory. He has never truly seen her completely in the nude under light before. He observes her large droopy breasts, and then his eyes wander down to her curved waist that leads to her wide hips and her long legs. He cannot prevent the passionate flame of a blush heat his body as his gaze journeys lower to her dark curls veiling the most intimate part of herself.

Cal yearns to wrap his arms around her beautiful body. His eyes are filled with lust as they behold Elizabeth’s blue eyes, dark with lust-filled passion. Her perfectly parted lips call to him in a silent song of passionate choruses.

He notices that her fingers twiddle with insecurity. ‘I have scrutinized her for too long.’

“You are astounding,” he murmurs, loving her with his eyes. In a primal act of fiery hunger, like tongues of flame in a hearth, he encapsulates her lips with his and massages the breasts that captivate him.

He flicks the pink, peaked, pebbled nipple in the centre of her left breast, awakening a moan from Elizabeth. Her sound is so enticing that he is called to her breasts. They are beckoning to be touched, licked, and held.

With firm touches that are exploding with gentleness he turns her around.

She rubs her back against him, creating an ignited friction of eternal heat between them. Cal sees a large number of beauty marks gracing her back. His slender fingers trace light lines of faint scars amongst the constellations of dark spots on Elizabeth’s heated spine. He runs his fingers over the light lines and kneels down in an act of worship as if heaven is under her feet, kissing all of the ones he can see.

Elizabeth is experiencing a passionate haze, the world before her disappearing, as all of her body quakes with Cal’s heated touches.

‘Well I am in the lavatory, I know that,’ she reminds herself. ‘I do not want his loving treatment of me to end. The way his hands feel on my breasts is invigorating, as if they ache for his touch just as much as I do.

‘I want more of him, to touch him, the way he touches me.’

As if hears her thoughts, Cal picks her up and carries her to the bath that is graced by steaming shallow water. She sees this as an opportunity to give his hair much needed attention. She explores his defined jaw bone with her lips and she can feel his light stubble underneath her kisses.

She nuzzles his neck with her nose, taking in the intoxicating scent of him, ‘that I cannot identify. It is something spicy and earthy at the same time.’

Her body aches and cries with love for this man that gently holds her and places her in the water, “I thought...”

“I may be a man of luxury Miss DeWitt Bukater, even so I do not like a bath full of water to be unused. Water is a precious resource, Miss DeWitt Bukater didn’t you know?” he tells her in a gruff arrogant voice that is laced with desire, as he takes off his white shirt and black pants, and unbuttons his cream union suit. He rolls his socks into soft balls and pitches them in a far away corner, the final obstacle to his awakening.

Dipping his foot in the hot water he is welcomed by a splash.

He retaliates by splashing back.

Elizabeth feels a twinkling laugh rising from her throat, “I believe we are making bubbles young Mr. Hockley.”

Cal barks out a thunderous laugh that rings and echoes around the white tiled room as he enters the warm water. Once he is seated Elizabeth propels herself forward so she aligns perfectly in between his long open legs. She straddles his waist and twirls her fingers in his dark curls of chest hair as she silences him with a kiss. Their lips interlock in a heated, passionate coupling that foretells of their imminent union.

They remember why they were here in the first place. Waves of water slosh on the side of the bath tub as if they are created from an eternal wake.

‘Water makes everything better,’ Elizabeth thinks with an ignited sigh, before she is overcome by a wave of passion from heated depths. 

Cal feels pressure inside of him build, his body is aching for its primal release. ‘I need to make sure she is ready though.’

He guides her to the opposite end of the porcelain basin and taking hold of her ankles he gives each one a soft kiss as if he is bestowing upon them a blessing of love and companionship before hooking them around his waist.

He then begins to tease, ‘the wondrous area, where only particular men can visit.’ He pleasures her with his fingers fondling her nether regions. He massages her nub of desire, awakening her pleasure centre. He feels his fingers grow moist from her internal sap.

Elizabeth is gasping and writhing underneath his ministrations. She bites on her bottom lip and gazes at the ceiling to control her sounds of desire. She feels a familiar boil and rising from within her as if there is a divine knot of fire becoming undone inside of her. Her sacred cauldron is overflowing and spreading it’s scalding cosmic elixir all over her body.

Cal’s strong and gentle fingers expertly move and orbit around her significant spot. She feels as if she is at the centre of the universe, ‘his universe.’ Elizabeth feels aflame in the warm water. There is a brightness growing behind her hazy vision. ‘I am so close.’

“Darling, Cal, I need...” she whimpers against his seething lips.

“I know,” he says in a voice husky with desire, as he watches her writhe and arch underneath him. He swiftly enters into her sacred cavern and feels her envelop him.

‘Being in the water is very erotic.’

“Look at me,” he commands in a tender whisper.

Elizabeth does, ‘I am glad I did.’

When their gazes meet and she sees him above her, their eyes experience each other and observe each other with love. Elizabeth studies the handsome face above her. She gazes in wonder at his strong jawline and his pointy chin. She arches her back up feeling their connection within and gives him a fluttering kiss. 

She lowers herself down and he moves inside her. He rolls his hips so expertly that Elizabeth feels cosmically fulfilled. ‘There is no other place I want or need to be.’

“I am yours,” she whispers and gasps, “only yours. Only you can do this to me. It’s only you. I love you,” she respires to him in passionate sighs as she arches her back and bites her lower lip, becoming blissfully undone below him. 

Cal watches his enchanting vixen becoming undone with blissful passion below him. To know that he is pleasuring her and seeing the sight of her reacting to his ministrations, to know that she is his, binds him in a loving pact.

He feels her tighten around him. Her teeth lightly graze his earlobe. He feels himself going over the edge of brightness. His thoughts once more tumble through bubbles of light. ‘She gave me a gift. She says she is mine. I am not going to squander her gift. She freely gave herself to me…again,’ he admires with translated words of love as he ejaculates inside of her.

“I love you,” Elizabeth states from her passionate peak.

Cal nods a few tears leaving his eyes, “Thank you,” he says in return.

Elizabeth kisses a kiss that is ignited by gentleness and pure passionate strength, “I am sorry I marked you, from last time,” she says in a voice that is husky from her exclaimed peak.

“You are an enchanting vixen. As long as it doesn’t show from under my shirt I am fine with you biting me,” he tells her in a tone of hoarseness while he gives her a dashing smile.

“Fair enough, although when we are married, I shan’t have to be quiet anymore,” Elizabeth tells him in a posh accent.

The images her words conjure almost have him aroused...’almost,’ he thinks, as he feels his sheath twitch while still being inside her sacred chamber. He feels it once more become limp with exhaustion. 

There is a knock on the door, “Madam’s driver is here sir. Should I let him in and go get madam from the study?” Anne asks. 

“Let him in Anne, I will go see to Elizabeth,” Cal replies from in between Elizabeth legs with a conniving smirk on his heated cheeks, flushed with desire and exhaustion. He carefully separates himself from her and watches the culmination of their watery union expel its remnants from inside of her.

Elizabeth hastily scrambles out of the bathtub with a clumsy gait as her wet feet weak with desire slip on the small puddles of water that trail behind her. Her fingers tremble with the afterglow of their union.

From behind her Cal holds on to her trembling frame, not wanting to let her go. With tender touches awake with intimacy he helps her to get dressed. His long slender fingers button her dress giving each closure a blessing of love. He watches the hard fastenings of her dress hide her beautiful curves from his eyes. Curves that he will dream about. When the last amethyst button is closed he kisses the nape of her neck, and watches her long damp hair cascade like a chestnut waterfall down to her hips.

~

Anne hears some strange sounds coming from the lavatory. She goes to investigate, when she nears the door she hears the indisputable sounds of splashing water and grunting. ‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,’ she thinks, scandalized. ‘I should not have gone closer.’

There is a quiet knock on the front door. ‘My face must look like a tomato.’ She dutifully goes to answer the door.

Upon opening to the awaiting visitor, she sees a very handsome man on the other side whose flat cap does not disguise his midnight curls, protesting against their capture. His unkept hair is not the only striking feature about him though, as his dark evergreen eyes stare back at her. Green eyes that shine with warmth, friendliness, and humour. Anne’s heart thunders in her chest like an ancient storm of ignited lightening.

“Good evening Miss, I am Elizabeth’s…I mean Miss DeWitt Bukater’s driver. Could you please tell her that I have arrived,” Edward greets with a charming smile and friendly tone.

She looks at the lavatory door with a dark blush and tells him, “Will you give me just a moment?”

She goes and knocks on the door that is now surrounded by silence. ‘He must be finished,’ she thinks, then blushes more at the steamy thought.

She informs Cal about the driver before going back to invite Edward inside, “Madam will only be a moment,” she informs him, as she turns around to look in the direction of the study. 

Cal opens the bathroom door wearing his black pants, cream suspenders, and a semi unbuttoned white shirt showing a dusting of drying curls of dark chest hair.

Anne has never seen him undone. ‘He is beautiful,’ she admires with heated cheeks flooded by scathing thoughts of infatuation.

Edward sees the maid looking at Elizabeth’s fiancé with dark red cheeks and wide dark lust filled eyes. He is highly amused.

“Perhaps I could have some tea miss while I wait,” he prompts, with a lopsided grin shining on his tanned face as he sits on the white and green striped couch.

“Of course,” Anne murmurs with surprise, forgetting that there is a new character in the small apartment. She is distracted from her indecent thoughts by the call of duty.

She departs to the kitchen in a flustered wind. Thoughts are blowing through her mind like pink blushing sunset lit clouds in the sky.

Checking that Anne is out of sight Elizabeth chooses to leave the bedroom.

Edward observes that it is beside the door that Cal came from. ‘Were they? Is her hair wet?’ Edward smiles at Elizabeth’s antics.

Edward cuts the awkward air with a loud cough and gives Elizabeth a small wag of his fingers, in a silent greeting of humour and comfort.

Elizabeth’s blue owl-like eyes are wide with surprise and admiration for her loyal friend, who surfs the crescent waves of laughter like a dancing dolphin in the roughest waters.

“Oh madam, there you are! Mr. Hockley just went looking for you in his study,” Anne informs her in a rushed tone as she hands Edward his cup of tea.

“Did he? I must have missed him. I just went to say goodnight to Pearl and Ella. Do you remember where I put my hat, jacket, gloves, and muff from this morning and afternoon Anne?” Elizabeth asks.

“Right here madam,” Anne says, retrieving the weighted accessories from the cushion by the fireplace.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth replies as she crams her long hair in the hat, for the last time to-day.

“Don’t thank me madam I was only doing my duty.”

Before Elizabeth can retort she is interrupted.

“Sweet pea, there you are,” Cal sighs with theatrical relief as if he is playing a part in the dramatic play of life.

Edward almost spits out his tea when he hears him call her sweet pea. He swallows the scalding liquid of the peppermint tea with a grimace.

“Cal, this is my driver Edward,” Elizabeth starts to introduce.

‘What is Edward’s last name?’ Elizabeth silently reflects. ‘Oh right, Talon.’

“My driver, Edward Talon.” 

“I trust my fiancée is in good hands with you Mr. Talon?” Cal inquires in a deep voice, charged with seriousness and an intense dark judgmental stare at the handsome stranger before him. 

“Of course sir.”

“I best be going,” Elizabeth says, as she casts her eyes downwards willing herself to find something more interesting in the red dining room carpet then the man standing in front of her.

“Seems so,” Cal replies with a dejected tone. He takes her left hand with her engagement ring and kisses the top of the glimmering diamond.

“Thank you for your loving service, Elizabeth DeWitt Bukater. We look forward to seeing you tomorrow,” he finishes with his deep voice reverberating with tender wakes licking the inner shores of her being. 

Elizabeth blushes, “I will be seeing the both of you tomorrow. I wish you a restful night darling.”

He lets go of her hand and nods, making his way back to the lavatory.

“I am ready to take my leave, Mr. Talon,” Elizabeth says with practiced primness that sounds nauseating to her ears, hating this part in her dramatic role in the theatre of life as she looks at the strong artist beside her.

“Of course, Miss DeWitt Bukater,” Edward says with rehearsed dutifulness.

“See you tomorrow Anne,” Elizabeth tells her.

As she departs the apartment and looks back at the grim brick building from outside, Elizabeth reflects back on the very eventful day.

‘I am grateful to have some solitude to unwind and adjust to my new existence as a mother and wife.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone, 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. Please feel free to share any of your thoughts of this chapter or the story thus far.   
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Until I write again, 
> 
> Mystic


	32. A Ridiculous Drive Home

Elizabeth is suffocated by darkness as she walks out of the apartment building and to the waiting automobile camouflaged in the opaque dark. The air is thick with smoke constricting her chest. She wheezes heavy breaths.

Through the syrupy mucous of her hazed being she notices the eerie quietness, as if a thick black blanket has settled and covered the world in night. The only lights that can be seen are the faint yellow lights from the mill, a yawning monster. She can hear the distant groan from the drowsy beast, awakening from deep fathoms.

The heaviness in her chest grows as she contemplates the creative destruction around her. Amidst her plummeting thoughts a new sound calls to her – a familiar sound of adventure and comfort. As Edward opens the door of the black automobile Elizabeth can feel the strength wafting off of him. She is surrounded by a comforting quiet inside. A quiet that beckons and welcomes odyssey. As the engine roars to life Elizabeth sits still amidst the mechanical groan of its momentum.

Edward courses through the dark windy roads of industrial Philadelphia and it starts to lightly drizzle. The pattering raindrops on the hard folding top are accompanied by Edward’s light laughter. He cannot stop laughing; when he tries another giggle bubbles forth. ‘I did not even drink any bubbles,’ he thinks before he is overcome by an image of drinking bubbles.

While Edward laughs Elizabeth observes her existence in the passing world, thoughts zooming in her head. The cold air whips at her face chilling her nose and blushing her cheeks. ‘Everything is happening so fast. There was marrying Samuel. Being with child. Meeting Cal, then being engaged to Cal, and Cal adopting Pearl. It is all happening so fast and it feels all so right,’ she muses with a rising giggle.

Now Elizabeth is laughing at the ridiculousness of it all and the irony of life. ‘I was in a slow and tortured marriage with Samuel. With Cal it is accelerated and right.’

She silently marvels at how she became a mother figure in one day as she looks at the passing land bathed in darkness. A world of casted shadows in the dark twilight.

Edward continues to chortle not even knowing ‘what is so funny to begin with.’ That thought has him cackling even louder and he does not realize he has closed his eyes for a few seconds.

Elizabeth’s thoughts are not the only thing moving rapidly. She feels the automobile moving fast. Removing her warm hands from her black fur muff she slides down the separating glass between the driver and passenger seats. The usually audible gravelly sound is now muted by the onslaught of noise.

She firmly taps Edward on the shoulder saying, “Slow down!” but the noise of the speeding engine is too loud. “SLOW DOWN!” she yells.

Edward looks over his right shoulder and can see that something is wrong from Elizabeth’s wide, fear filled shadowed eyes.

He pulls over on a quiet street and asks, “What are you trying to say?” 

“I was asking you to slow down Edward, you were going too fast,” Elizabeth explains.

“I apologize Elizabeth, I was...am distracted,” Edward says with a shrug of honesty.

Elizabeth does not reply, struck by the familiarity of the street. She looks around where they have stopped. ‘Of course, Edward was driving on or near the street where my old house used to be before father sobered.’

“Fate, what opportunity do you have for me to-night?” she mutters. She realizes that Edward is looking at her with tender fondness.

Elizabeth gives him a bashful smile, “My apologies, this is the street Edward,” she tells him, pointing at the barely visible street sign reading _Walnut Street._ The words are like a hidden clue in the faint lamp light as if the flickering light is shrouding a secret of darkness.

“The street of what?” he asks in a tone filled to the brim with curiosity.

“The street where my life began,” she says, with a deep sigh.

“Perhaps we should...” Edward begins to say as he reaches for her arm. His strong fingers wrap around her black coat, securing and anchoring her in a moment of gentleness, lest she will be overtaken and drowned by shadowed memories.

With a movement that is blazing with sympathy and gentleness Elizabeth removes his hand from her arm and gives his tanned hand, shaded darker in the veiled light, a comforting squeeze knowing that her childhood upsets him deeply.

“…go for a walk,” she finishes. “You were driving much too fast, Edward, I did not feel safe.” 

“You are safe with me. I was just distracted is all,” Edward defends.

“By what?” Elizabeth counters as she steps onto the sidewalk closing the automobile door behind her with a loud slam. The sound ricochets around the quiet like a falling marble bookend.

“Well, he called you...sweet pea,” Edward says once more, trying not to break into laughter and falling into a deep chortle as he braces himself on the hood of the automobile.

“It’s a term of endearment that I am very fond of,” she justifies with blushing cheeks.

Edward does not even hear her. He is too busy cackling with his hands on his knees, wheezing whooping strong breaths of amusement and hilarity. His laugh bellows out of him like flames of whimsy from a fledgling on its first flight.

“Something tells me that Cal calling me that particular word is not the only thing you thought amusing to-night. Come let’s walk down the street below this one, it’s a high class neighbourhood so we should be all right,” Elizabeth ascertains with a small smile of fondness at her old friend, putting her gloved hands in her warm thick wool pockets. 

“What if somebody sees me walking with you?” Edward asks, his deep buoyant cackle now dissipated as he catches up to Elizabeth’s wandering pace.

“Edward, the best time to hide is in the night. The world has befallen into shadow, we will just hide in the shadows. Come on it will be fun and more safe. You can tell me what is amusing you,” Elizabeth affirms with confidence.

“Right, of course,” Edward replies with a loyal nod.

They have not gotten very far when Edward observes, “Your hair is still wet.”

Elizabeth blushes and touches the damp tendrils escaping from their rimmed confinement, “It’s not wet, just damp.” 

“Even so, I won’t have you be getting sick now Elizabeth, not with a fine man like that waiting for you,” Edward tells her with mock seriousness.

“Edward, I have never heard you speak of such things!” Elizabeth states with a playful gasp.

“I know a good man and woman when I see one,” he reveals in a cryptic voice as he stands with his strong arms crossed, defending his heart.

“Of course you do, much like a horse I assume,” Elizabeth quips, as she squints her shadowed eyes at Edward’s broad profile.

“Anne seemed to think so too. Do you think I could pull that off, black pants, white semi-buttoned shirt, lean strong muscles, and suspenders?” he postulates in an arrogant tone as he postures himself powerfully, impersonating Cal’s strong stance as he walks backwards.

“Edward stop. You are going to make me urinate myself...and you don’t have any chest hair,” Elizabeth says through erupting giggles.

Edward is encouraged by her shadowed blissful expressions and light tone, both accompanied by her amused chortles. He chooses to continue his theatrical demonstration. His hands splay in a dance of drama, performed with an orchestra of hidden smiles.

“…and you came out with your hair wet! As if that was not obvious. Whose Pearl and Ella?” he inquires.

When Elizabeth’s giggles subside she looks at Edward and can tell from the tilt of his curly head and the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that he is waiting for a response, “Did you ask something?” Elizabeth wonders.

“I asked who are Pearl and Ella?” he repeats.

Elizabeth’s smile falls from her face like the setting winter sun whose tumbling light slumbers behind the shadow of a mountain. She looks around, her veins roaring rivers of fright. Her smile disappears as she glances around for a following ghost.

“Ella is a...” she whispers with spooked softness, as she pulls Edward by his arm into a dark brick corner hidden from the watching world.

“I will see you next week, George!” she hears someone say.

She hears the chittering of a nearby raccoon, ‘I feel as if we are being watched by unseen eyes.’

Edward can see her uneasiness like stars glinting on the pitched canvas of the darkest night.

“I think that is enough walking for to-night, don’t you? You have somewhere to be tomorrow,” he tells Elizabeth as he looks down at her with a blind love-filled gaze and a gentle touch that secures her in tenderness.

Edward and Elizabeth walk in comfortable silence on the way back to the automobile.

“I will tell you...,” Elizabeth starts to say before a police patrol wagon stops their walking by honking their loud blaring horn, making their hearts jump like a dance of clowns.

“Have either of you seen suspicious behaviour on this street?” Lieutenant Patrick Spears asks in an authoritative voice as he departs the wagon and rolls his red moustache between his thumb and forefinger.

“No,” Elizabeth and Edward say in unison, trying not to share a smile with each other. 

“Right, no yelling, sound of breaking things, screaming? Any sound you deem suspicious?” the lieutenant prods as he sucks his teeth between his thin lips watching them with deceiving casualness for any whispered tells.

“Well, there was a sound of a raccoon chittering, but that is all,” Elizabeth replies, the clouds of her breath float in front of her reminding her of the cold as she stands beside Edward’s warmth.

“Do you live nearby?” he asks with a voice of suspicious intrigue.

“Our automobile is nearby,” Edward answers.

“Are you from this neighbourhood?” Lieutenant Patrick Spears questions, knowing that he is the best patrol man on the Philadelphia Police Patrol and he realizes there is more to this shadowed pair.

“As of presently no,” Elizabeth says in a stiff tone fighting against the urge to twiddle her fingers.

“What are you doing here then?” he questions.

“I’m her driver sir, and Miss DeWitt Bukater struggles from a sensitive stomach condition. She asked me to stop so she could relieve her restless stomach by walking. I pulled over where I thought it safe and here we are. We are just going back to the automobile, as I said,” Edward informs him with words of quick thought and a voice of charm.

‘It seems plausible to me, they don’t seem all that suspicious,’ the police officer thinks as he takes off his black hat to run his fingers through his full head of short red hair.

“Is this the truth Miss DeWitt Bukater?” he interrogates.

“Yes.”

“Are you feeling better?” he asks.

“Just tired,” Elizabeth replies. Inside she is shaking and seething at the same time.

Shaking because authoritarian figures bother her and seething, ‘because how dare…’

“Your story sounds plausible, thank you for your cooperation,” Lieutenant Spears says in parting.

“Come on Miss DeWitt Bukater let’s get you home,” Edward prods. 

“That...” 

“Let’s just get you home,” Edward says with finality. Knowing what is raging inside Elizabeth. ‘The police patrol is not out of our sight yet.’

When they reach their automobile Edward opens the door for Elizabeth. In the driver’s seat he waits for her to tap him on the glass. Instead she gives his muscular shoulder a soft squeeze that holds sparks of friendship and gratitude.

In her body her bones are raging. She can feel them grind together as if there is a calamity of fury inside of her, ‘that was completely unnecessary and ridiculous! Are people not allowed to walk the streets at night anymore?

‘The power that men think they have when they wear a uniform. I just want to go home. What an unimaginably ridiculous motor drive!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone, 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed reading this chapter! I look forward to reading any comments that you might want to share about what you thought of this chapter or the story thus far.   
> Thanks for reading!   
> Until next time, 
> 
> Mystic


	33. Coming Home

Upon arrival at the DeWitt Bukater estate Edward opens the automobile door. Elizabeth steps out and as she stands on the night stained stone driveway she confides to him in a soft whisper, “I will tell you who Ella and Pearl are tomorrow.”

Edward confirms his muted understanding with a single nod.

‘I am home,’ Elizabeth surmises with a contented sigh looking up at the large sandstone house before her.

The bright yellow interior lights from the parlour are awake and the cast iron lanterns mounted on either side of the entranceway are welcoming beacons in the dark, guiding her to the front door.

‘There is something nice about being here even though Cal is not with me. Already he is a big part of my life, but I do not want him to be my whole world. I want him to be a significant character, a partner who I love wholly and deeply. I have big dreams after all. Being a mother is a dream, I want to heal, and I also want to help cats...yes I want to help cats,’ Elizabeth ponders as she arrives home.

Elizabeth stares at the threshold of magnificence before her as she rings the doorbell, the opulent wooden divide of the front door with countless engravings of numerous flowers and wisps.

She laughs with excitement when she hears Silas’s loud bark alerting to her presence.

Trudy answers the demanding chime, “Miss Elizabeth you’re back!”she squeaks with her hand over her mouth and her brown eyes wide with unhidden surprise.

“Good evening to you as well,” Elizabeth greets with chestnut furrowed eyebrows and a puzzled tone as she walks past Trudy and crouches down to see her wagging fluffy silver and black marble coated companion who grins a toothy smile as he sees his dear friend.

“I beg your pardon, it’s just...,” Trudy starts to say. Her quiet voice hitches on her tongue as if it is touching ice.

Elizabeth turns around with growing confusion before glancing around the large bare golden interior. She senses the air of unease cast around the grand open entrance, and notices the large crystal and gold chandelier glinting as if in the quiet calm before an ambush.

“Elizabeth...” Ruth announces as she glides down the stairs. Her pale fingers trace the wooden balustrade, and her narrow eyes are chilled as she speaks in a deadly quiet tone. “Elizabeth, you are home.” 

“Yes, mother I have returned. Why is everyone displeased that I have been away?” Elizabeth questions. She moves closer to her mother as if there is a cosmic thread pulling her forth.

“Because you haven’t called all day, not once. Rose thought that...”

Elizabeth is annoyed and starts to remove her purple velvet gloves finger by finger in swift movements.

“I have been out of contact far longer than a day previously. And, I did telephone to ask Edward to come and pick me up.”

“Yes, I know, it’s just...” Ruth begins before her words stop on her tongue, as if a large meteor has flown above her, drawing all words out of her mouth while it streams across a dark sky.

She sees something glitter curiously on Elizabeth’s left ring finger. ‘It could not be, could it?’

“Elizabeth, darling?” Ruth asks in an awed whisper. Her left hand shakes as her long, pale forefinger gawks and points at the glittering gem – the new jewel in the house.

Elizabeth looks down at her ring finger and tenderly smiles, “My engagement ring mother. Cal gave it to me this evening.”

“ROSE, COME DOWN ROSE!” Ruth screams. It sounds like a banshee to Elizabeth’s tired ears.

With graceful steps Rose breezes down the staircase looking like a goddess of fire to Elizabeth’s tired eyes. Her bejewelled black and gold silk robe heralds her every step with a twinkling chime, “Mother what is it? B, you’re back!”

“Rose, he gave her a ring, a ring Rose!” Ruth exclaims jumping up and down with glee as her hands clap together in an excited dance. The hem of her glacial blue dress ripples around like a brook of travelling water in winter.

“May I see it closer?” Rose asks in a calm voice as she extends her palm to hold Elizabeth’s adorned hand.

Elizabeth obliges. She finds their excited behaviour very amusing, ‘especially mother’s.’

“It’s beautiful and it suits you,” Rose compliments, scrutinizing the diamond with shimmering approval reflecting the radiant gem glowing with modesty. 

“I have much to tell you. As of to-day Cal has a young daughter,” Elizabeth blurts out.

‘Better now than later,’ Elizabeth’s silent thoughts determine.

“B, did your child...?” Rose asks with naivety.

“No Rosie, that would have been a tragedy,” Elizabeth comments, placing a hand on her abdomen, “A while yet.” 

“Is his daughter born out of...” Ruth starts to say.

“No mother, he adopted Pearl. Her mother died this afternoon in childbirth. Her father is not her biological father and he had neglected her. He is a supervisor at the mill, and in his overwhelming grief he asked Cal to take her in. She is the most adorable little girl. He put his top hat...” Elizabeth stands at the bottom of the stairs telling them of to-day’s adventures.

She animatedly tells them about meeting Ella and escaping out of the house. Tears well in her eyes when she tells them about Mary.

Then she tells them about the proposal. She leaves out the part of her and Cal being intimate in the bathtub, although she cannot keep a blush from heating her cheeks.

She then tells them of the ridiculous drive home.

“A police patrol officer questioned you?” Rose asks, her light tone intrigued with surprise. A part of her envies her sister’s adventure thinking back to her own routine day of planning, piano playing, reading, and horseback riding .

“It was quite intimidating actually. Oh mother, do you know if there is an organization that helps animals?” Elizabeth asks, trying to quell her rising nerves with the distraction of cats.

“Yes, I believe there is a women’s branch of the Pennsylvania Society of Women for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. It is mostly made up of middle class women,” Ruth informs her with a wary tone, as she predicts Elizabeth’s next healing endeavour.*

“I will contact them tomorrow as I plan to go to the park with Pearl. You are welcome to meet her if you like,” Elizabeth invites with a happy smile.

“I would like to meet her. I am meeting some friends for tennis so maybe after,” Rose tells her. 

“Absolutely! What about you mother?” Elizabeth asks with a gaze of hopefulness.

“I need to sit down and do wedding planning with you Elizabeth. That is hardly a topic for a child,” Ruth states with her thin pink lips in a severe line of stubbornness. 

“She could help and be involved,” Elizabeth proposes.

“We need to go to the dress store and design a dress,” Ruth objects.

“I would very much like her to be part of the process, to have a say, to know that she belongs. I was going to bring her here to see the woods and perhaps you could meet her,” Elizabeth confides.

“Darling...” Ruth sighs.

“She is going to be in our life mother, whether you like it or not!” Elizabeth retorts.

“I think that you have had a very busy day and it is best that we all get to bed, no arguments...go,” Ruth pronounces the final word of this evening’s reunion.

“I have prepared your bath Miss,” Trudy tells her in a voice of gentleness, herding Elizabeth up the stairs and into the lavatory.

“Thank you Trudy,” Elizabeth sighs feeling a pit of disappointment in her belly as she ascends the stairs with fatigued steps walking through the muddy waters of her mind.

~

Ruth cannot believe that her daughter has taken in a child from such low standing. ‘I would never have done such a thing myself. I hope that the child does not have fleas. I am very surprised that Cal would do such a thing as well. I wonder if his father knows.’

She looks at the ticking wooden grandfather clock by the corner of the sweeping stairs. The pendulum of fate swings each second passing, by and by, mirroring Ruth’s swaying thoughts as if the pull of fate is speeding time up. She decides, ‘it is too late now to telephone and ask. Besides Elizabeth said that the papers have already been signed.’

“I do want to meet the child to see what caused Cal to make such a brash decision. Having a child come into your life after one day is a brash decision. I will call Nathan Hockley in the morning and see what he has to say,” she decides with sleepy defiance.

~

Cal is resting in his study, thinking about how wonderful to-day was, ‘especially coming home from work.’ 

He thinks about his father, ‘I did not yet tell father that he is, well there is no better way to say it, in plain terms, he is a grandfather.’

Cal chuckles smugly behind his hand in a practiced gesture of politeness to hide back his private yawn. 

“I am sure that Elizabeth has told her mother already, it would be hard not to. I need to tell father. He is not sleeping yet. There is no time like the present,” he ruminates to himself. His deep voice travels across the room in rippling whispers securing his words with a new found knowingness that was not there before.

“May I speak with my father?” he demands of the voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello, father...Yes, I realize that it’s late...No everything is fine with the mill...The new system was well received by the men...I will be shadowing Joseph who the other supervisors and I deemed is an appropriate replacement for me...No, that is not the reason why I am calling you at this hour...I know that you are in your office sitting by the fire anyway...Because father until recently I have lived with you...No, I am not calling for that reason...do you remember the man Abe, who worked for you?...Yes, I suppose he is fairly good looking, with the horrible accent, yes him, well his wife...died in childbirth to-day,” Cal divulges to the static silence on the thread of communication.

Ever since his mother had died, Cal’s father was very different. ‘He treated me like one of the men at the mill. He became cold and cruel. More so, than he already was. When mother died so did father. He became consumed by work,’ Cal recognizes with clarity as he listens to the faltering breaths on the other side.

Cal clears his throat before he continues, “He had a daughter father...no the baby died with the mother…before, he had a daughter…she is not biologically his daughter...Yes, like with Elizabeth...Abe didn’t want her, father, he hired a charity lawyer…I know I have not heard about one of those either until to-day. Abe asked me to take care of his daughter Pearl...No, I did not say no. She is a child father, who needs me. I signed the papers. Congratulations you are a grandfather nine months early...Of course Elizabeth knows...Yes, she was very accepting of it. I do not know what her mother’s reaction was...No father, I am an adult. I am on the verge of owning the business…I think I am quite capable of raising children with Elizabeth...Good night father. I just wanted to share this news with you before somebody else did,” he concludes with a tone of exhausted firmness and unconscious bitterness, rising from the mountains of strong pride he has for the sharp man he has become.

He hangs up the telephone, ‘if I was not tired before that call, I sure am now. I want to have a true father-child relationship not just a business father-son relationship,’ he muses as he checks on a sleeping Pearl and Anne, and sees that they are both fast asleep.

He feels a smile pull at his lips and his heart lifts as he looks at Pearl lying on her back with a fist of Anne’s midnight strands grasped and curled in her tiny hand. Cal carefully closes the door and goes back into his study to sleep.

He dreams of...

~

Elizabeth bathes in the warm water, thinking about her previous bath experience not more than a few hours ago. She feels her body flush at the ignited memories, searing with the brands of Cal’s burning touches that kindled her senses and roared with love. She gets a familiar stirring in her loins, thinking about Cal, ‘all of Cal.’

She thinks about the big decision he made to-day and how, ‘it was the right decision.

‘Right now I feel I have two homes, this home with mother, Rose, Silas, Trudy, Margaret, Edward and Fly and my new home with Cal, Pearl, and Ella.’

She wonders what unexpected adventures fate will bring tomorrow.

“I hope it does not involve death and cats being shot at,” she whispers thinking of Mary and embracing the tears that prickle behind her eyes and wet her cheeks. She feels the burning paths of her unspoken fears lighting their way down her cheeks.

Crawling into bed her dark thoughts transform and journey to Cal. With one cheek on her silk pillow and her face nuzzled in Silas’s radiant blue merle coat Elizabeth rests and smiles into the silvery strands of her best friend, comforted by the familiar grace of this moment.

“I love you Silas,” she whispers with a sniffle and a sigh before both of their breaths lengthen into a harmonious rhythm, a tide of their own creation.

Elizabeth closes her weary eyes and dreams of...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * In 1911 50,000 cats were killed they were either bludgeoned or drowned to death because people were afraid of any possible diseases that could be spread to humans. I took some creative license with Ella being shot at. 
> 
> In the summer of 1911 the first animal shelter in the nation was organized in Philadelphia by women who approached this matter with sympathy and empathy and saw a new way of treating animals with less cruelty. 
> 
> Please feel free to share any thoughts, feelings, or impressions of what you thought of this chapter or the story thus far.  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Mystic


	34. Morning Agenda

Elizabeth is pulled from dreams of awakening desire by the vortex of rising acid. She feels her closed eyes squint in objection, however the combat of calamity is a stronger opponent than that of blissful reverie. Her eyes widen with shock and with sudden speed she abandons her warm bed to heave as usual in the cold lavatory.

When the dispute has come to an end she rubs her stomach murmuring in a dry voice, “You are blessed. I love you little one.”

The one part that she cannot get used to is the unusual new symptom of being hungry soon after being sick, as if her body is experiencing a drought of nourishment.

‘I am ready to get up anyway. To-day is going to be another busy day,’ she realizes as she pulls the brass bell line for Trudy.

After crunching on some buttered toast with raspberry jam to satisfy her gurgling stomach, Elizabeth decides to wear her moss green dress. Green lace flows overtop the swirling gold velvet fabric which is accented with gold embroidery over the bodice.

“This dress feels warm and comforting,” Elizabeth appreciates as Trudy wraps her in a large gold ochre wool cape with matching gloves. The women share sentimental smiles with each other as if they are plotting a tale of no endings.

‘Only beginnings,’ Trudy thinks as she smoothes out any wrinkles from the heavy gold wool cape.

“Thank you Trudy,” Elizabeth says turning around and facing her friend with a newfound strength in her heart.

Tiptoeing down the stairs with her dark green suede boots Elizabeth reflects on the quietness of the dawn around her, and the breath of the universe surrounds her. She can feel the world of dreams spiralling into the world of waking. Without disturbing the calm air she walks out of the house and into the crisp dawn to see Edward and Fly.

“You look nice. I can take the trunk for you,” Edward compliments with his lopsided grin. His green eyes shine with the unseen world of lingering sleep.

“Thank you.” 

“Are you ready Elizabeth?” he quips in a playful tone with a matching bow.

Elizabeth is reminded of the boy who has since grown up. ‘His green eyes still shine with that innocent gleam,’ she muses.

“Not quite. There is someone I need to see first,” she tells him, as she quells the fluttering butterflies in her stomach. She walks to Fly’s stall and gives her morning greeting to her stabled friends, smiling at Fly’s impatient nickers along the way.

As they breathe together Elizabeth wishes Fly a beautiful and bountiful time in the pasture. Their conversation does not consist of words until she breathes in a single sacred breath.

“I will be seeing you next time,” Elizabeth coos in a loving voice caressing the dawn kissed copper coat beneath her fingers.

“ELIZABETH!” she hears her mother’s shrill call from across the field. She can see some crows flee the bare poplar trees cawing their displeasure.

‘All I want to do is go into the automobile and drive off with Edward laughing.’ She finds that her feet and conscience lead her in a different direction.

“Yes, mother?” Elizabeth asks in a stiff voice that is leaking dread.

“I thought you would leave as soon as I called you,” Ruth says with undisguised surprise.

“No, I wanted to...” Elizabeth reveals in a sigh of honesty.

Her gaze travels behind her to a waiting Edward and their adventure, before it is whiplashed back to Ruth and an unusually soft tone that flows with ease without any icy rigidity, like an ice mountain that is showing its vulnerable interior.

“I just wanted to tell you to have a good day with....Cal’s daughter. Darling, sweetheart, you are, and have been, growing up before my very eyes. I was just stunned, that’s all. You are going to be a splendid mother,’ Ruth tells her as she places her warm palm that looks cold to the touch on Elizabeth’s flat abdomen.

“As to this little girl, I hope to meet her.”

“You will mother. I would like to have breakfast with Cal, if that is all right?” Elizabeth asks with a bright smile.

“Of course. It’s good to see you excited about a man darling,” Ruth states with a gentle smile that is a foreign visitor on her pointed face. No more words need to be said to her daughter. She needs to reserve her strength for Nathan Hockley and their unexpected conversation.

‘You have no idea how excited,’ Elizabeth thinks with a transformed air of mirthfulness and surprise as she watches her mother walk back to the house. She turns around with a leaping heart following the haunting pull of dreams.

As she jaunts lightheartedly she cannot prevent herself from admiring Edward’s strong stance as he leans against the black automobile with his arms crossed.

She smirks to herself knowing her words will stir confusion in her old friend, “Is everything according to plan?” she asks in a discreet whisper.

“So far,” Edward replies in a distant tone not entirely sure what she is referring to.

“Let’s just hope that we do not encounter anymore of the police patrol. It was a little bit unnerving,” Elizabeth muses aloud.

“I will drive on my best behaviour Elizabeth,” he tells her with sincerity.

“Thank you Edward.” 

~

Rose, still asleep, is dreaming of dancing in a painting of many faces and colours, feeling her body abound with truth and light. All of a sudden she hears or feels a tug and is suffocated back in the world of waking.

‘I am more free in my dreams,’ she thinks, as she reflects back on her creative realm.

She feels her sensitive ears twitch to a shrill sound coming from downstairs. She rolls her eyes at her mother’s dramatics, knowing that she is no longer in the dreamworld.

With a smirk and a pull of inquisitiveness Rose decides to eavesdrop on this very intriguing conversation. Her mother’s passion has only echoed down the halls a few times.

Her white night dress tents around her crossed legs as she sits poised behind the twisted wooden ribbons of the balusters looking down below. Listening as her mother’s shrill voice raises and crescendos into an agitated bird song she picks up worms of only a few words.

“Blasphemy… horrendous…it’s their choice…she was married before…yes, yes, yes, I understand… I raised my daughters to be women of strong properness, nevertheless they always did have their own ideas…”

Rose turns around and buries her face in her white nightdress covered knees. She cannot listen to anymore, not right now. She feels surging waves pummel her inner shores, a primal scream of frustration and hurt spurts from her throat. She dashes into her bedroom and drowns her screams into her down pillow.

The pressure to be is too strong. Knowing that she has to live a life that is not of her own making, that her destiny is already charted, Rose wipes raging tears out of her eyes.

“I am not my own captain,” she whispers with rampaging heat to the morning light questing into her large curtained window. She collapses into her pillow in an exhausted heap.

She feels a hand come and lightly lay on her back, a remedy to her emotional suffocation. Her heavy blue eyes weighted with emotional exhaustion look up and see a kind Trudy looking down on her with empathy swirling in her brown gaze.

~

“I will contact Trudy about the rest of the day,” Elizabeth tells Edward in a light tone. With a grimace at the sight of the dreary destructive mill behind her she shudders at man’s quest for progress.

“What about the trunk, would you like me to carry it?” Edward interrupts, his tender voice a calm song to her spiralling thoughts.

“Yes please.” 

“What time would you like me to pick you up?” Edward asks as he carries the wooden trunk and accompanies her to the apartment.

“I think that Cal might like Lovejoy to drive us,” Elizabeth replies in an absentminded tone.

“Lovejoy?” Edward asks, with a loud voice and a beaming smile.

“Cal’s valet,” Elizabeth states as she looks up at Edward with a challenging stare.

“Lovejoy!” Edward exclaims with a deep laugh and a bright smile.

“Not so loud Edward he might hear you. He lives down the hall,” Elizabeth hisses to him in a shrill whisper.

They walk the length of the dark stale hallway of the third floor in silence.

In the stale silence and lingering scents of mildew and sour alcohol, Elizabeth ponders about pondering and how much she has changed, and ‘how the most abnormal seems normal.’

She knocks lightly on the door of the apartment.

“Oh madam, I was not expecting you so early,” Anne greets with a raven black sleepy braid in her hair.

“I thought I would come by before Cal goes to work,” Elizabeth tells her.

“I will go and wake him for you madam.” 

“No need Anne. Edward has some sand for Ella to use when she needs to relieve herself. There is a small shovel as well. You can let Pearl sleep in a little longer as well. If you can make me some oatmeal that would be wonderful, and if you could put this trunk somewhere out of sight,” Elizabeth instructs in a gentle voice handing her gold cape, draping the fabric in the air like sand on a beach and her gloves to Anne’s awaiting arms.

“Of course, madam.” 

“I will see you later to-day Edward.”

Edward nods to Elizabeth and greets a blushing Anne, “Good day.”

He prepares Ella’s sandbox, walks out the front door and drives back to the stable laughing about Lovejoy. 

Elizabeth did not wait for Edward’s response, striding with determined steps to Cal’s study.

Cal is sleeping in his hard oak chair. His head is tilted back and the fringes of his dark brown hair are out of his closed eyes which are experiencing another world. His plump lips are slightly parted, and ‘are very alluring and kissable,’ Elizabeth admires.

Elizabeth moves closer to the window behind him and glides her fingers over his bare collarbone. ‘Oh how I dreamed of this.’ While her left hand is exploring his collarbone and chest her right hand caresses his jaw and morning stubble. Very delicately and quietly she kisses him. 

Cal feels hands on him. He can feel the metal of her ring on his collarbone and through the curls of his dark chest hair, ‘I am dreaming of her.’ He feels her soft hands on his face and both of her hands massaging his scalp. He groans in pleasure.

“This is a dream,” he tells himself, not knowing he has murmured that thought aloud in a guttural groan. 

He feels her lips against his, so sweet and pure as if she is breathing life into him. He reaches behind to touch her but there is nothing there. 

For some reason Elizabeth does not want him to know she is there yet.

‘I do not want to get him so excited that he will awaken and bulge out,’ she thinks with a hidden smirk of satisfaction at the imagery her thoughts created as they crest back to this sublime moment. She sees his fingers twitch and quickly evades their reach. When she watches the curious tendrils recede she returns to her loving ministrations.

She sniffs his ears before giving each one a discreet kiss. She kisses his closed eyelids, his straight nose, his smooth cheeks, and finally his soft parted sleep-swollen lips.

“This is a good dream,” she hears him murmur. His deep voice is her weakness, a deep rumble that awakens her depths. 

‘I want to show him that I can be a gentle lover too.’ She is so lost in her musing and caressing that she does not pay attention to his wandering fingers.

Cal feels soft velvet fabric through his sleepy touch. His mouth hungrily thirsts for her lips as if she is a raindrop in the desert.

They share a magical good morning kiss. Before they both naturally end this morning’s intimate embrace Elizabeth rotates herself so she is standing in between his long legs. He notices through his bleary gaze that, ‘her hair is pinned up to-day, oh how I want her hair down to touch it and smell it.’

“That was... sweet pea, you are here early,” he says in a voice of breathlessness.

“I wanted to see you before you leave. I know that your work is busy and I just wanted to see you before you left. I can go and come back later if you don’t...” Elizabeth mumbles.

“No Elizabeth, that’s not what I want,” Cal says, her shy tone and timid posture wake him from his sleepy daze.

‘It is astounding to me that she can be so strong and yet so submissive at the same time,’ he realizes as he rubs a hand down his sleep-heavy face, weighted with exhaustion.

“I would have expected more you know,” she states, looking around his plain study with only one large wooden bookcase in the corner behind the door and one large horizontal oak cabinet parallel to Cal’s large desk decorated with neat piles of paper. The room is painted in dark burgundy and on the floor is a dark green and red carpet. There are no decorations lighting the walls just a few pale unlit gold sconces harbouring on either side of the door. The most ornate decoration in the uninspired room is the telephone with a carved brass eagle sitting on the desk and even that is dreary.

“More?” Cal says with curious wonder, his deep brown eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Well, being a man of your social standing and with such a luxurious eye, I would have expected more from your office or study space,” Elizabeth explains with a small smile in his direction.

Cal scratches the back of his head and clears his throat, “Yes, well you have not seen the one at my father’s house yet, or the townhouse in the city. I don’t need a lot items here, because I am not here for long periods of time, usually. This is a special circumstance.”

He rubs his neck and swallows, “There is something that I have not told you.” 

“Do you have an illegitimate child that I don’t know about?” Elizabeth prods in a playful manner.

“No, that is not...” he begins to say flustered.

‘All I have to say is that I need to push the wedding ahead, because I have to be away for a month, that’s all...do it Caledon!’ he commands to himself.

Elizabeth can see that Cal is rubbing his hands repeatedly down his face and his feet are tapping on the floor in a chaotic rhythm, creating a dance of agitation. 

She takes his constricted fingers and gives them a gentle squeeze while calmly looking down at him sitting in his study chair. Elizabeth’s blue eyes are bright with compassion.

“Cal, darling, I love you, you know that. If there is something bothering you, we can sort it out. We are partners. You come to me when you need something and I come to you when I need something. We are living life together darling, and frankly, I have been through quite a lot of wrongdoing. I don’t frighten easily,” she says in a soothing manner.

While Elizabeth is speaking, Cal’s discomposure makes him restless and he changes positions. He is now pacing in front of Elizabeth while she leans against his wooden desk. Her hands caress and grip onto the sanded edge.

His pacing and restlessness remind Elizabeth of a captive animal. ‘As if he is a roaring lion pacing with trapped rage,’ she observes.

“I am going to tell you something, but I need you to retain your comments until I am finished speaking, understood?” he asks her in a rigid voice that is ripe with firmness.

Elizabeth silently nods, trying not to show her intimidation.

“At work we are expanding mills which will bring in more income. They are going to be spread all across the country eventually. I am going to need to be away from the end of March until the end of April. I know the wedding is on the twenty-first of March. I would have to leave on the twenty-fourth which does not leave room for a honeymoon. Sweet pea, I also know how you wanted to have a spring wedding. I will be gone for a month and I can’t even stand being a day away from you,” Cal explains in a hoarse voice. His deep sleep-roughed voice almost cracks with anguish as he thinks about the romantic time that he will not be able to give to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth is still, listening to every single word he says, hearing that his voice is full of anxiety. She smiles to herself as she imagines their honeymoon. ‘I am very touched that he thought of our honeymoon,’ she absorbs, as the moist pressure of tears well in her eyes.

Cal wonders, ‘why is she not saying anything?’ He hears a small sniffle, and sees Elizabeth discreetly wiping her red eyes.

“Sweet pea, I knew that I should not have told you, it was better...” 

“No.”

He looks at her baffled and can feel fireworks of surprise burst on his face.

“I am not upset about what you told me. I am touched emotionally that you thought of our honeymoon.” 

“Of course I would think about our honeymoon. Why would you...you never had a honeymoon before?” Cal is astounded and disturbed at what kind of husband Samuel was. 

“Yes, I have,” she begins. “We did go on a honeymoon, just the kind he wanted. We went to Saratoga Springs.” 

“That’s it!? He took a woman of your worth to Saratoga Springs, that’s just appalling,” he says with deep dissatisfaction.

‘I do not want to say too many bad things about Samuel. He was his old friend after all,’ Elizabeth silently promises herself.

“I definitely will take you somewhere far more luxurious than Saratoga Springs,” Cal tells her with flourished confidence.

“I am sure you will darling. That’s not the point, however. I love you so much that I just want to spend time with you, even if it’s only being in your company. Just to know that I won’t be hurt and that my breathing does not annoy your ears is a honeymoon for me,” Elizabeth tells him with convicted honesty.

She winces at her inner betrayal, ‘so much for not telling him more bad things.’

“You said he wanted to go to Saratoga Springs. What did you want to do?” Cal inquires with visiting curiosity.

Elizabeth has an amused gleam in her blue eyes, a glint of prowess, “Perhaps on our wedding night I will tell you darling. Of course I would still like to have the wedding on the first day of spring because it would be a new beginning of many new beginnings for us. But if we can’t make it work I will understand. Where are you going at the end of the month?” 

“New Jersey, Boonton.”*

“I have never been, but it is not very far from here right?”

“Not far for a day trip by train, but too far back and forth for a whole month.”

She walks to look out the window at the rising towers of smoke coming from the factory below. 

Cal stops his pacing and looks at Elizabeth’s graceful curving form that calls to be embraced.

“What if Pearl and I take the train on half Saturdays to visit and stay for Sunday?” Elizabeth postulates with her arms crossed in a loose embrace, cradling her proposing thoughts.

“That could work,” he muses in a tender mumble as he walks to her and wraps her in his arms from behind, placing his hand on her wide velvet covered waist.

‘I do not feel the swell of the child underneath. That does not mean it is not there though,’ he thinks, as he chooses to splay his large hands on her plained abdomen.

“I like that idea,” he murmurs over her shoulder. “I still don’t know what to do about the honeymoon.” 

“Do you have a calendar?” Elizabeth asks, turning around in his strong arms. 

“Of course,” Cal replies, retrieving one in the cluster of papers.

Elizabeth intently studies the dated squares as if she is filling in fate’s plot.

“Tomorrow I have the midwife appointment and she will tell me when the child’s most likely due,” she states in a breath of calm that ripples with anxiety.

“Are you nervous?” 

“I would be lying, Cal if I admit that I am not apprehensive,” Elizabeth reveals with a sigh of truth.

He knows she is not finished speaking, ‘because she is twiddling her fingers.’

He gently squeezes her twitching tendons, “Is there anything I can do?”

“What if it looks like Samuel and I can’t love it as much...” Elizabeth murmurs.

“Sweetheart,” Cal murmurs in a gentle whisper, ‘because sweet pea does not seem like the right words in this moment,’ he thinks with a soft smile.

“I know that you will love this child, even if it is missing a finger and a toe,” he tells her in a tender tone, unable to prevent a small smile from visiting his face.

“Don’t say that, I don’t want it to be missing a finger or a toe!” Elizabeth exclaims in a soft whisper to his comforting warm words.

“My point is, you love Pearl though you have known her for less than one day. You will be carrying this child inside of you until it is born. You will love it of that I don’t doubt. Because my dear Elizabeth, you have so much love to give. I will love this child too of course. I told my father last night that I had nine months to become a father. Is that right?” Cal inquires while he holds onto Elizabeth’s bare hands.

Elizabeth tilts her head side to side as she weighs his question, “By the calculations my mother used I am maybe around two months gone. I just don’t know...” 

“We will find out tomorrow then.”

“Yes, I will tell you.”

‘I know that I have to heed my mother’s words. My word, even those of a true gentleman, have no power here,’ he concludes to himself.

“No, you misunderstand. I will come to your house and meet the midwife with you, if you permit me to of course. I know this is a women’s matter and men aren’t generally privy to such information,” Cal tells her in a delicate tone, as if he is carrying a fragile tray that, with a mere tremble of his words, will shatter its load.

“You’re welcome to come of course. It’s at two o’clock in the afternoon. Pearl can stay with Rose and my mother,” Elizabeth agrees in a demure tone.

He shares an adoring and loving smile with her that is as beguiling as the first blooms of springtime, “What about the rest of the dates?” 

“What day do you leave?” Elizabeth inquires as the sound of a turning page fills the small room.

“The twenty-fourth of March,” Cal answers.

“That’s a Friday.” 

“Yes, well it gives a couple of days to settle in, look at plans and such.” 

“And the day you get back?” 

“Monday the twenty-fourth of April.” 

“Do you have to go right back to work after?” 

“No, I can take a few days off to be with my family,” he tells her with an unexpected ease. “I have to leave again for a longer distance trip at the end of May. I was hoping that you could come with me,” he informs her.

“Where will you be going?”

“Belfast, Ireland. There is a long term project that our company has been working on and it is projected to have its first sailing test at the end of May.”

“What is the project?”

“A ship, one of the grandest ships in existence,” Cal says with a dreamy smile, like a child looking at clouds and identifying their shapes.

“Does this ship have a name?” Elizabeth asks with an amused smile.

“ _Titanic_. She has a sister ship as well, named the _Olympic_. But, Thomas Andrews, who is the builder and mastermind of this luxurious leviathan, has assured me that _Titanic_ will be the most luxurious. Hockley Steel is providing steel to build one of the grandest ships in existence. Elizabeth isn’t that…” Cal says with a gasp of pride, his enthusiastic tone exuding passion and pure excitement.**

Elizabeth fondly watches his brown eyes, warm with fervour and confidence. She studies the passionate businessman in front of her and sees the warm boy he once was. ‘A man who is very devoted,’ Elizabeth ponders with a loving heart.

She chooses to accept his invitation with a shy smile, “I accept your invitation. I would like to go on this trip with you.”

Cal beams at her, his handsome face aglow. He wraps her in his long arms, content in knowing that he has her support.

“Thank you,” he says in a husky whisper.

He clears his throat, and bashfully asks with a rising pink heat to his cheeks, “What were we talking about again?”

“Our wedding date.”

“Right, you have been in my life for such a short time, however, you already feel like my wife,” he tells her with heated conviction as he kisses her on her cheek and caresses her covered breast.

Elizabeth cannot contain a blush and a shiver of kindling desire at his comment. “We can still be married on the twenty-first of March.”

“How?” 

“Well the how is very easy Mr. Caledon Hockley. You put on a very expensive suit and I, in a dress with a bouquet in my hand, walk to you. We promise a union of loving, cherishing, honouring, and protecting each other. We seal our promise with a kiss and we go on a two day honeymoon,” Elizabeth states with playful ease looking up at the handsome man in front of her and embracing her roaring desire.

His eyes are completely enraptured with her, as if she is a rare bird that, if he looks away, will flee. “Only two days...?” 

“I will come to visit on Sundays and half Saturdays with Pearl. I can have Edward drive us to the train station, and I will need to visit on the thirtieth of March,” Elizabeth conveys to him in a confident voice that is waking from unknown depths.

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, ‘if he calls me a witch...’

“Since we are discussing dates, Iwanttolayunderthestarsandmakelove,” she rushes out in one love-filled breath.

‘I am horrified at what I just said,’ she thinks as her embarrassment is visible, speckling her pale cheeks. ‘He is going to call me a witch…I know it.’

Cal is bewildered, ‘what ramble just came out of her mouth? She seems to want a response from me. I have never had a woman talk to me that fast before. I did not even know women could talk that fast.’

“Sweet pea, I have no idea what you just said. Could you repeat it slower? You want to come and see me because...” he coaxes in a tone bright with gentleness.

“Don’t call me a witch.”

“What?”

‘I am really trying to be patient, perhaps when she is not so flighty. As if the rare bird that she is, will spook by the sight of her own shadow,’ he thinks perturbed. 

“I won’t call you a witch. I will admit my curiosity is peaked,” he communicates with honesty.

“Very well…,” Elizabeth mumbles as she takes a deep breath.

‘I can do this. I have to trust him,’ she tells herself.

“On that night...I want to lay on the grass under the stars and make love.”

Of all of the imaginings going on in his head, ‘this is not…’ he thinks as he blinks blankly at her.

He loudly clears his throat, “Why on that night in particular?” he asks with a passionate side glance, trying to quell the imagery her idea has conjured.

Elizabeth turns again to look out the window that is facing a world of soot and smoke.

Turning back around to look at him, her eyes large blue pools, she quietly says, “It’s the new moon, a start of our time together. Two cosmic beings becoming one. I thought it would be romantic, as if out of Midsummer Night’s Dream or something,” Elizabeth explains with flourishing timidness.***

He thinks about what she has told him, ‘I am not as connected, so to say, to nature as she is. It is like she needs to be outside to breathe. I can be indoors for hours and not think about a tree, but Elizabeth is different. It sounds very enticing.’

“Why would you think I would call you a witch?” he wonders aloud.

Elizabeth looks up at him with brave eyes pooling with the haunts of a phantom. She breathes a deep sigh that releases the lingering energy of past torments and pain.

Cal can see her past heartbreak and betrayal as if it is green grass in a meadow shining under the morning sun.

“When will you get it in that very pretty head of yours that I am not him. I am very intrigued, are we going to glow do you think?” he admonishes in a voice of transparent tenderness.

This is the moment when a veil falls over a shadow that has been following Elizabeth and it is cast down. ‘Of course Cal is not Samuel. I need to let Samuel go, easier said than done of course. In this moment I know that I can completely trust Cal.’

Elizabeth releases a light laugh and rushes to embrace Cal. The smoke from the nearby mill colours the sky an unnatural orange. The eerie light shines upon their tender embrace, while a little voice on the other side of the door chirps, “Papa.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Historically, Boonton, New Jersey used to have an steel mill that closed in 1910 so i thought it appropriate that Cal would have a steel mill here as well. 
> 
> ** There is much controversy over the construction of the RMS Titanic I think. I could not find in the Illustrated History of the Titanic or the many internet sources if the construction was delayed or not. 
> 
> I had an epiphany while writing this chapter is that this story is not only about social history it is also about the birth and death of the RMS Titanic. In the movie Cal said that Titanic was built with Hockley Steel so I decided to play that with it a little bit.
> 
> *** For those of you who are interested in the story of honeymoons it goes back very far down the lineage of history where a newlywed couple would lay under the stars with mead (a honey wine ) and make love under the new moon. Hence, honeymoon. When I read this I thought it was perfect for Elizabeth’s character 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> I hope you enjoyed it.  
> I invite any feedback about your feelings or impressions of what you thought of this chapter or this story thus far. 
> 
> Until I share again, 
> 
> Mystic


	35. First Family Breakfast

Elizabeth smiles into Cal’s safe, sweet smelling white shirt covered chest, fragrant with hints of leather and vanilla. With reluctant feet she steps away from this morning’s affectionate embrace.

Cal gives her a dashing smile as he hears Anne say, “Little Miss don’t...”

“It’s all right Anne,” he tells her, as he opens the solid wood door.

“Good morning my princess,” Cal greets her with a gentle murmur as he picks the small child up.

Elizabeth watches their interaction with hidden fascination. Her heart is awestruck at the vision before her.

Pearl has both her hands on Cal’s barely there stubble and is staring into his deep brown eyes as if she sees within their depths, past the veil. Her large sapphire eyes are alight with wisdom beyond her young years. They both have matching grins on their faces. The little girl is oblivious to Elizabeth’s presence in the room.

“There is someone special to see you,” Cal whispers in her ear.

Pearl turns to look to the left and her mouth upturns in an excited smile.

‘Pretty Lady, Pretty Lady here!’

She squirms out of Cal’s arms and runs into Elizabeth’s velvet covered knees.

Elizabeth looks down at the crown of the curly blonde head with a soft smile, before she bends down and picks Pearl up with a laugh in her heart.

‘She smell good,’ Pearl thinks, before starting to kick her small legs in excitement.

Cal sees the excited limbs, “Careful Pearl,” he warns.

“It’s alright darling, she’s kicking my legs, no harm done. Good morning sweetheart,” Elizabeth gently murmurs to Pearl. “Are you ready for our day in the forest and the park?”

Pearl beams an eager smile showing her small rows of white teeth and nods her large head of golden curls in rabid movements as if it is a bobbing ball. Elizabeth steadies her hand on the back of the jerking head.

“Best be going for your breakfast then,” Cal adds as he crosses his arms and draws his lips in a perturbed line of stoicism.

Pearl wiggles out of Elizabeth’s arms and runs out of the study.

Cal is bothered by Pearl’s behaviour, ‘did she not hear what we told her last night?’

“When she sees Rose she is going to have two pretty ladies,” Elizabeth comments with a whimsical smile thinking of her sister.

Cal gives her a tense smile behind his hand, his face emotionless as if he has put on a mask that is well crafted for guarding emotions. 

Elizabeth sees his tense posture and gently holds his hand and stops his wallowing stomp. She searches his deep gaze with keen observation.

“She is a very loving child and there will only be so much time I can hold her for. I know the limits of my body Cal. Do not hinder her actions of love for me. The baby is safe inside of me. Trust me that I am able to do what my body is made to do. We are safe and here,” Elizabeth explains in a loving tone. She stands in front of the mask that she is able to see behind, speaking words of wisdom that visited from a realization that is a few hours old.

“I know I just got protective,” Cal reveals with an exhausted sigh. 

“Well that is very flattering, and I just got very hungry,” she quips as they walk together towards the dining room.

“I didn’t know that you were going to bring her to your house to-day?”

“Yes, I want to show her the woods.” 

“I have not seen or visited this renowned forest. Do you think we could go together tomorrow afternoon?”

“If your schedule permits.” 

“It does. I will work half the night shift to-night and then I will take the afternoon off. I need to be a good example for the men after all,” he tells her, as he sits at the table.

“This looks delicious Anne, as usual,” Elizabeth compliments.

“Yummyyummyyummy,” Pearl joins in.

‘I have two bright lights in my life, ‘ Cal thinks with a loving smile on his face.

He rubs his drooping eyelids that are as heavy as steel doors. ‘I do not know how I am going to last a whole week sleeping in my study chair.’

Elizabeth starts to spoon her oatmeal, lifting the silver spoon with careful and graceful strokes as if she is conducting a bowled orchestra. She eyes the new audience - a basket of freshly baked bread on the table with other harmonious accompaniments.

Anne had prepared a special meal of oatmeal pancakes with bacon, sprottled eggs, and marmalade, together with four fresh oranges placed on top of each other in a glass bowl.

They eat in silence, even Pearl is silent despite loudly slurping her glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

Pearl looks around at the two adults sitting at the table, ‘my new papa and ma...no pretty lady,’ eating.

‘Quiet no bad,’ Pearl thinks with a shrug.

She watches Cal take a sip of his coffee knowing it is the right time. She squirms on her yellow cushion as she looks down at the orange glazed pottery plate sitting on the oval table before her.

‘I wan tell,’ she thinks.

“I dweam,” Pearl chirps.

Elizabeth stops putting oatmeal in her mouth. She delicately swallows before asking as she looks at Pearl, “What did you dream about?”

“Woul Pearl be bad if tell?’ she wonders. ‘No,’ she decides.

Cal continues eating, although he is listening, as he readies himself for work. 

“Ma,” Pearl says, in a small voice.

“Do you want to tell us your dream or do you want to keep your dream here?” Elizabeth asks her as she places her hand on Pearl’s heart centre that is covered by her midnight blue dress.

“I keep,” Pearl chimes.

“That is completely alright, you can keep that special time in your heart. I am very happy that you dreamed about your ma Pearl,” Elizabeth tells her with gentle honesty. 

Cal hears what Pearl said, ‘my mother visited me. I did not tell her about it. I presume Elizabeth would tell me the same answer. Maybe it will help Pearl if I tell her. No, I do not want to share it, I want to keep it a little longer. It is not a secret, it is a gift, something from my mother. Perhaps in time, if it is appropriate, I will tell her.’

“What time will you be leaving for the park? I can ask Lovejoy to be ready,” he asks. 

“In the afternoon I think, to let Pearl get ready and all,” Elizabeth replies.

“Get ready? Sweet pea she is already dressed...” and then he realizes something.

‘I do not have any proper clothes for her. She is a child of Best Society now, not some poor girl. She needs proper clothes. What kind of father am I that I cannot dress my own child?’ his racing thoughts are heading into a tirade of rage, as if there are rapids of dark, red, and hot molten fire flowing through him. He feels a familiar hotness and boiling. 

Elizabeth can see that Cal is in some sort of distress, ‘his eyes are downcast, and his nostrils are flaring.’

She gets up from the table and quietly asks Anne where the trunk is.

“By the fireplace madam.” 

“Thank you.”

Elizabeth picks up the small trunk and carries the awkward box to Pearl.

“I have something for you, go on open it,” she coaxes.

Cal is too focused on his thoughts and failings as a father. ‘I cannot even provide for one day.’

His father’s words echo in his head, “ _The sole purpose of a man is to provide for his family. You fail to do that then...well son, just always provide for your family_.”

‘I cannot…I cannot…’

“Oh Pwetty Lady!” Pearl exclaims, releasing Cal from his dark pondering.

He sees Pearl holding a white long sleeve dress with light blue ribbons on the skirt and shoulders. He gazes at the petite dress, ‘it looks like it would fit her size perfectly. It is adorable.’

The rising heat overflows his insides like a rogue wave and his fragile temper flares. “What’s that?” he asks in a quiet voice that is as hushed as death. 

“It’s a dress, one of my favourites when I was a little girl your age, Pearl. I would go on adventures in this dress and pretend that I was a character in _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_. Have you ever read that story? It is one of my favourites. I wasn’t sure if your papa…,” Elizabeth looks over at Cal, with a bright smile. She is too happy to see the eruptive warning signs.

“…got you any other clothes? I didn’t think so. I thought that we could go dress shopping to-day, then the park, and perhaps afternoon tea. There is someone I would like for you to meet,” Elizabeth says with a growing smile of excitement on her face like a blooming morning glory.

“You had no right,” Elizabeth hears Cal growl.

“You had no right to come in here and dress my daughter as if she is a doll. It is not your duty to provide for this family, you have a place, it is to carry babies inside of you nothing more. Now take the pathetic excuse for textiles and GET OUT!” he roars. He may as well be a lion. 

Elizabeth cannot breathe, ‘I cannot be here. I want to take my engagement ring off and throw it at him! This morning was so intimate and magical. We were discussing our future.’

She runs out of the apartment and gasps for air as she exits the brick building, ‘Now I do not know…I do not know. There is no automobile to bring me home.’

She corrects her weak posture, ‘A lady of my standing cannot cry in public. I want to disappear. I am unloveable and I trusted him too easily.’

She starts walking with brisk steps as her thoughts circle in her head like chasing squirrels, ‘I wanted to believe he was different. I did believe he was different.’

She can hear Samuel’s deep teasing raspy laugh in her head, mocking her, following her. She starts to run, her long skirt trails after her, the dark green hem catches wisps of wind under her feet. The hem is dipped in mud and oil and becomes a burden of weight. The cool air whips around Elizabeth, cooling her loving heart.

A dark monster within is rousing to capture the escaping princess. It retreats back into the fathoms of Elizabeth’s being as she bumps into someone, “I am sorry, excuse me,” she says in a polite whisper and turns to continue.

“Elizabeth?”

“Catherine...”

“Are you all right?” Catherine asks with concern. Her hazel eyes observe Elizabeth’s broken posture and her disarranged waves of hair.

Elizabeth looks up at her and fights back tears as she shakes her head and with slow movements and breathes silent breaths.

“I believed he was different,” she can only say, in a heartbroken whisper.

“Oh my dear come now, I was just off to see Agnes for tea. I will call and make other plans.” 

“Don’t let me keep you, I really must...” 

“Nonsense dear, a woman in your condition does not need to be in distress. I am told I am a very good listener. I made oat cakes,” Catherine coaxes.

“As you wish Catherine,” Elizabeth concedes, and the roused monster of darkness goes dormant for now.

~

Pearl is so scared, she has never been with somebody who sounded like a lion before. She hides under the table and blocks her ears. ‘Papa say safe, Pearl no safe. Pearl love dress. Pearl be pretty too.’

After Cal’s temper erupts he storms out of the apartment and slams the front door with a loud bang, making the whole apartment shake with his enraged exit as he thunders down the hallway.

Pearl is alone under the table, only wanting Ella, ‘Ella make better. Ella and Pretty Lady.’

Anne tries to gently coax the small girl out from underneath the table, ‘It’s all right little one, he is gone,” she murmurs in a gentle voice as if she is talking to a trembling mouse who escaped the clutches of a cat.

Anne can see that her gentle words are useless and that Pearl is shaking like a leaf in a cold autumn wind. She gently tugs on Pearl’s small hand eliciting a high pitched scream that could break glass from the small cherub. ‘Maybe Lovejoy can get her out,’ she ponders.

Anne quietly leaves the apartment to visit Lovejoy, only to see that Cal is talking to him. “I did not pick her up this morning, she came on her accord,” she hears Lovejoy say.

“Where could she be?” Cal bites out.

“You yelled at her?” Lovejoy asks.

“YES, I yelled at her!” Cal exclaims with heated aftershock.

“Why?” 

“Because she brought a dress for my daughter. I am supposed to be the one who provides. If I don’t provide I am a failure. I need to get to work,” Cal grumbles as he stomps away with waxing agitation.

Anne sees that Lovejoy is about to shut his door. There is just a sliver of light slipping through to his dark apartment. His large hand is on the rough edge of the door fingering the loose splinters of mahogany.

Anne interjects in a timely fashion of kindness, “Excuse me sir. I need help with the child. She is hiding under the table and shaking. When I touch her she screams.” 

“I am not good with children,” Lovejoy expresses in a detached tone.

“Yes, well neither is young Mr. Hockley it seems. Could you help me at least try. I have some chocolate pudding in the fridge,” Anne coaxes in a desperate manner with her brown doe eyes wide and begging.

“Are you trying to bribe me with food. You really have been with a child too long. I will come,” Lovejoy declares as he closes his apartment door, locking the degrading apartment in darkness.

He follows Anne to the still ringing dead silence of the apartment that experienced last night’s tinkling laughter. Lovejoy can see Pearl’s black boots peeking out from underneath the table.

He rolls his eyes and grumbles as he gets on his calloused hands and weathered knees, “Good day,” he greets.

Pearl peeks up and plants her chin on top her knees, her large sapphire eyes are red and welling with tears. 

Lovejoy swallows with rising nerves. “I hear that your parents...” “

“No my pa’ths my pa’ths dead!” Pearl shouts with sharp barbs before she releases a small whimper.

Lovejoy soundlessly open his mouth and then wordlessly closes it, much like a fish, ‘I am at a loss for words,’ he thinks with hopelessness.

A loud yowl followed by loud scratching noises break through the morose air of the apartment. 

Lovejoy looks around from where the curious sound could be coming from, spots the source and smirks. He stands up and goes to the only closed door in the apartment, opens it and the ugliest cat that he has ever seen walks out and struts over to Pearl.

Pearl smiles and giggles bells of lightheartedness when Ella sniffs her nose and rubs her chin. “Ella,” she chirps.

Ella lays down on Pearl’s lap and purrs. “I mith Pwetty Lady,” she whispers. As she strokes Ella’s midnight cheeks her small fingers graze the missing tip of the jet velvet hairs of the cat’s right ear.

“Just leave her there. She isn’t going to do any harm, I will look for Miss DeWitt Bukater,” Lovejoy tells Anne as he rises from the worn carpeted floor and dusts off his black slack covered knees.

~

“Please, sit. That is a very pretty dress,” Catherine tells Elizabeth as they arrive in the small living room of the red brick row-house.

“He didn’t think so,” Elizabeth mumbles in a dejected tone as she sits on the rough burgundy couch.

‘I cannot even say his name. It feels like vomit in my mouth, oh wait,’ she suddenly stands up with her bare hand over mouth, running down the hallway to vomit into the kitchen sink.

Catherine follows her and rubs calming circles on her back murmuring “There, there,” unfazed by Elizabeth’s heaving sounds.

When Elizabeth is finished convulsing her breakfast Catherine guides her back to the decrepit corduroy couch.

“Would you like some tea?” she asks with a voice of politeness and kindness.

Elizabeth gives her a silent nod of disassociation. Words are overwhelming on her tongue, her thoughts are racing and her body feels as if she is floating. She feels broken inside as if there is a giant crack in her very being. She wants to keep the tears at bay but her tears do not obey.

“Oh sweet Elizabeth,” Catherine coos.

“I c-c-ca-can’t...I can’t...I can’t...breathe,” Elizabeth gasps.

“Yes, you can, breathe in for five breaths, breathe out for three. One …two…three…four….five...exhale one…two…three… inhale one…two…three…four…five...and out. Drink your tea, it will help calm you,” Catherine instructs with an expert tone of calmness. 

Elizabeth quietly sits on the burgundy couch drinking black tea while silver tears roll down her cheeks. ‘I cannot stop shaking. I really am a pitiful sight. Samuel was right about that.’

“I am p-p-pa-pa-th-th-thetic,” Elizabeth stutters in a hoarse voice of thickness as if her mouth is a bog and her words have to travel through the thick slime.

“No love, you’re sad, it’s alright to be sad,” Catherine consoles.

“Samuel was r-r-right.” 

“Whose Samuel?” 

“My first husband. He’s dead and yet his shadow follows me.” 

“Was he a good man?” 

“Depends who you ask,” Elizabeth says with a graceful and grateful grumble for not stuttering.

“He is not the man I’m guessin’ who didna’ like the dress then?” Catherine asks as some of her Scottish brogue slips through her social disguise.

“How long have you been a midwife for?” Elizabeth asks, expertly changing the topic.

“Miss Elizabeth I invited ye over for tea to listen to ye, bu’ I will oblige yer question,” Catherine tells her with a kind a smile.

“My ma was a midwife an me grand mum was a midwife. Er mum was a midwife. You could call it a family business I suppose. I ave quite a few apprentices I am proud to say,” she adds, puffing her broad chest up.

Elizabeth nods with silent tears streaming down her cheeks. They never seem to cease, “Thank you for obliging my question,” she appreciates.

“Now you get to answer one of me own, a game of sorts,” Catherine quips.

‘I like games and Catherine is a good person I can see that,’ Elizabeth muses.

“I’ll play,” Elizabeth says, with a teary smile and a slight nod.

“Did he hurt you or the bairn?” Catherine questions.

Elizabeth places her bare hand gently on her abdomen and shakes her head. “Not physically, just my feelings.” 

“Ah, that can hur as much as a physical slap cannit,” Catherine states with a gentle nod.

“It does.” 

“You know then what it’s like.” 

“Yes, I got lashed in finishing school.” 

“No, as bad as that may be, being slapped by someone who has promised to love you, there is a hard comparison for that kind of hurt,” Catherine explains.

“Yes, I know,” Elizabeth whispers and closes her eyes in shame, willing the encroaching shadows away with her whole being.

“So he did hurt ye where?”

“No, not him, Samuel, Samuel hurt me like that.” 

“Ah, yer dead man then,” Catherine says, with a nod.

Elizabeth smiles a tearful smile at that. “Yes, he did, he took great pleasure in confusing me. Does your husband…?” 

“George...no George wouldn’t hurt a fly. Herds them right out of the house he does,” Catherine tells her with a fond smile. 

“He sounds like a good man,” Elizabeth observes.

“Oh he is...a quiet man...but a good man. Sometimes I dinna ken if I am his housekeeper or his wife,” Catherine states with an honest sigh.

“I suppose sometimes there may not be much of a difference. In my house we have maids. Cal said, my place is to carry babies nothing more. He isn’t wrong...considering...I just thought...” 

“That he was different,” Catherine interrupts.

Elizabeth dips her regal head of confined hair before she asks, “Do you have any children?” 

“Oh aye, I had three, two died when they were infants. Only one survived, she is six and works one at one of the textile factories,” Catherine explains.

“Catherine...”

“Ye dinna know. It was so long ago. One of the things I love about being a midwife is seeing the struggle and pain to bring something so bright and innocent no matter for ‘ow long. Even for a short time each newborn bairn makes the world quiet and anew, with a love beyond love. When ye are lucky ye can watch that life grow and make more love,” Catherine shares.

“Do you...do you think what happened to Mary will happen to me? It’s just that Cal adopted Pearl. She didn’t like the idea of the baby...we were just so happy last night. It seemed the right time to tell,” Elizabeth expresses through her muddled thoughts.

“Miss Elizabeth, ye listen to me good and ye listen to me well. Ye ar strong. Mary had previous conditions. She barely carried Pearl to term. She knew this was a difficult pregnancy. She knew the risks to her and the bairn. It is not only the pain on the outside we see. The bairn was suffocated by the cord and in breech. There was nothing I could do. I do not see that as your fate, just the pains which can be bad enough,” Catherine explains, sharing explicit medical information.

“Right, thank you, I think I can handle pain,” Elizabeth mumbles. Inside she is flooded with apprehension and regret for her confident tone.

“Out of curiosity what did you say to Pearl?” Catherine asks.

Elizabeth quietly thinks. Her blue eyes flit back and forth as if she is reading pages out of an old book. She thinks about last night and ‘Cal’s soft touches and his warm gaze’. She blushes at their time in the bath.

“I see,” Catherine whispers into her teacup.

“I told her that each woman is blessed with a gift to give life. This gift and power does not come without risks. The gift in the end is a child. It seems so ordinary now, as if his words took everything wonderful away. As if carrying a child is my absolute destiny not something that I choose,” Elizabeth explains, looking into the black water in her teacup as if the warm liquid is as downhearted as she is.

“Ye do choose it though. Carrying is one thing Elizabeth, bu’ there is also raisin’. In some ways we have more choice in that than it may seem. We as women may not be able to choose how the bairn was created. We can make it our vow or oath that we will raise that bairn to be the best person possible. As with anything, sometimes some women are meant to be mothers and others aren’t. I see ye as a mother. Ye put yourself and yer bairn in danger for a cat yesterday. Not many women would do that. Ye are raised from strong cloth. Ye must do yer mother proud,” Catherine encourages with wisdom.

“My mother and I have not been close until recently. She ignored me unless she didn’t have to,” Elizabeth reveals.

“What of yer father?” Catherine inquires.

“My father. It depends who you ask,” Elizabeth states with a shrug. “If you ask my sister she would tell you wonderful stories. My mother would tell you he was a man of great faults to only have died a foolish death.” 

“What about ye. What was he to ye?” Catherine prods.

“A man who put me on display for his and other men’s pleasure. I can’t tell you anymore Catherine. I need to lie down,” Elizabeth expresses with an exhausted sigh as she speaks truths that she did not know were ready to be shared. 

“Of course,” Catherine murmurs with a somber stare, reflecting on the young woman in front of her and how no one, not even the high class, are free from misery and strife.

~

At the mill Cal is shadowing Joseph as he said he would. He is grateful at least that, ‘I can be here amongst the noise. I can bathe in my failure. My failure as a father and my failure as a fiancé. I yelled, no screamed, at Elizabeth. She did not deserve that, neither of them did. Worst of all, I did not go and check on Pearl to see if she was alright. I have been a father for less than one day and already I have failed at it. They are better off without me. Maybe I am better off without them,’ he winces as if he has been stabbed in the heart, and squints his eyes from the pain that thought caused him.

“Oie man, what are you doing!?” Joseph shouts.

Cal’s eyes look around in a wild dance. His brown eyes are wide with alarm as he gazes at the noisy arena hoping to catch a glimpse of anything untoward. He follows Joseph’s gaze, ‘what is he looking at?’

He thinks about the many parts of the steel mill where something could be going wrong at this very moment. ‘There is the entrance where the train would bring the charcoal from the mine. The iron is then excreted from the coal. Then there are the boilers where the iron is melted, the most dangerous part of the mill. I have heard many men compare it to being in hell. Then the molten steel is poured into a mould and cooled with water. When the steel is cool it is rolled flat for shipment and is sent to the customer for them to process it. This is how this mill is run at least.’ 

Hockley Steel is well established with different mills that make steel for railways, automobiles, and ships. ‘Each have similar processes but are different in their own way. Some steel needs to be hot and some steel needs to be made cold. Cold steel is stronger and more expensive to make. Only my best men work in the cold steel factories. They are making steel for the White Star Line actually. Elizabeth and I were just planning this morning…’

He is torn from his internal demons when Joseph yells. A foreman is distracted, helping one of the other workers with a stiff bolt, and does not see the worker behind him pour hot molten ore that spills over the mould.

“Oie, man what are ye doing!?” Joseph yells again.

“I missed the mould sir,” the man meekly replies.

“Get some cold water here NOW!” Cal orders. “Worker, see Joseph and I in my office...NOW!”

The worker is in shock and ashamed for lack of a better word. He was distracted because he and his sweetheart had their first fight this morning. ‘She does not like America. I told her that there would be a better life here for us. It was all a big lie, she was better off in England being a teacher instead of a seamstress. She wanted to leave America and me with her. I cannot tell my boss that. What am I going to tell my boss?’ he wonders.

It seems like a long time and not at all when they enter Cal’s office adjacent to the quiet board room.

“Go in,” Cal says in a forceful tone pointing to the open office and his imposing wood desk, which stares as if to intimidate any visitors, like a guard dog.

‘I can do this. I was raised to discipline my workers and make money by being a business man. I know how to make my father proud,’ he commands to himself.

“Do you know how many men, of my men, you put in danger to-day? Last week one of our competitors had an explosion at their mill killing five of their men. I do NOT want an explosion. We have a big order for the Kensington Construction Company to fill this week. You had better do your job and do it well. Is there a reason Mr...” Cal disciplines as his hands slam the hard mahogany desk under his hands.

“Pierce,” the man interjects in a timid voice.

“Mr. Pierce, is there a reason for your imbecilic action to-day?” Cal inquires, as he stands in front of his large desk parallel to the door.

“I was distracted sir.”

Cal waits, ‘I hope that I do not have to ask further questions.’ Joseph shifts beside him and he is reminded of his presence.

Joseph thinks, ‘I need to step up, I need to show Caledon Hockley that I can be in charge. I was promoted for a reason.’ He encourages himself as he scratches at his freckled nose.

“Was there a butterfly?” Cal and Mr. Pierce look at Joseph with wide brown and blue eyes that exude bafflement.

“Was there a butterfly in the factory?” Joseph repeats. 

“Wha’ no.” 

“Then there shouldn’t have been a reason for you to be so distracted Mr. Pierce,” Joseph finishes. 

“I got in a fight with me wife this mornin’ an’ when I was pourin’ I was thinkin’ about ‘er, nothin’ else,” Mr. Pierce explains with his hands open, begging for these men to understand.

Cal pinches the bridge of his nose, ‘unbelievable,’ he thinks.

“What are you going to do about it Mr. Pierce?” Cal asks. “I need you to be here to-day. You are a good worker, I need to know that I can rely on your fine craftsmanship, Mr. Pierce. Even if it is only pouring, I need it to be smooth, not lumpy or spilled on the side, putting my other men in danger. Can I truly rely on your service to-day Mr. Pierce? Or do I need to send you home to fix things with your wife?”

Mr. Pierce thinks seriously on Cal’s question for a few minutes. He takes his grungy grey cap off his head and runs his fingers through his short dark hair, “Can I ‘ave the afternoon off sir, to talk to me wife?” he asks as he wrings his grey cap between his hands.

Cal waves his hand in a wind of dismissiveness, “You can have the rest of the day off. I will ask one of the men from inspection to take your place.”

“Thank you sir, thank you,” Mr. Pierce says, while he shakes Cal’s right hand in gratitude before walking out of the insulated room with light wood floors and dark blue painted walls.

“But sir...” 

“We are working with men Joseph, human beings. Sometimes I forget and you just might too. Men and metal appear to be one and the same here. To-day we got reminded that they are not. He was a safety risk. Safety before money, do you hear me? Blow this place up and there won’t be any money. We have a big order this week, lots of room for error. Do you understand what I am telling you?” Cal states in a strict voice as he walks out of the room of insulated truth. 

“I think so sir.” 

“Good. Let’s go talk to the supervisors in the inspection hall,” Cal directs as he discreetly wipes his soot covered hand on his black pants.

‘I am in control here. I provide and take care of my men. I am fooling myself thinking I can be a family man.’ He continues his day with a growing ache in his chest.

~

Lovejoy needs to find Elizabeth, ‘for the little girl at least. I know Caledon can take care of himself. I do not know where to start. I am certain that Miss Elizabeth would not go to the factory. It would be a very long way for her to walk home. I cannot just ask random people, have you seen a woman? I imagine I would get quite a few laughs for that. No, I need to start somewhere, but where? Where could a woman like Miss DeWitt Bukater be hiding?’ he ponders as he considers perhaps visiting the midwife’s house from yesterday.

‘But that would be preposterous. Might as well start knocking on doors,’ he decides.

So that is what Spicer Lovejoy did most of the morning, driving around knocking on doors and asking, “Have you seen a woman?” He got laughed at by women mostly, and disturbed and agitated men who were sleeping.

‘This is going to be a long day. I have to find her. Caledon will need her when he calms down,’ he presumes as he drives down a very familiar looking street with rows and rows of brown brick houses.

A part of him thinks, ‘I am in England…again.’

~

Anne has decided to leave Pearl under the dining room table. She seems to be content to be there with Ella.

Anne sighs deeply in the kitchen, “They seemed so happy. Perhaps nothing good is meant to last. They were like a flower, sharing its beauty for just a short time before it rots. I have never seen Cal behave like that before. A part of me did not know he could...I am quite shaken up about it. Poor madam went white as if she was seeing a ghost. I do wonder what madam was seeing? I do not know what is going to happen to Pearl.”

In this air of uneasiness, she does know something, “I need to make lunch, even if it is for a child. It is my duty after all,” she murmurs.

~

Ella is purring beside Pearl. The light that was shining on the couch last night is not warm. ‘Meow…that is why I moved. These new walls are loud. This child needs me like a kitten who likes to cuddle. I will stay for my two-legged kitten. Meow…I will stay.’

Pearl continues to pet Ella. She knows there will be no going into the forest or the park to-day. ‘I love dress.’ She has never seen something so pretty, ‘I want to be pretty too. Papa got mad me…I love dress. Da say mean words, papa mad me for dress. I want Pretty Lady. I no want new papa,’ Pearl decides with silent stubbornness.

~

Elizabeth has never woken up from such an uncomfortable comfortable sleep. She sees from sleeping on her left side that Catherine is at the door talking to somebody. She closes her eyes briefly and wakes up to the sight of black shiny shoes. She rolls on her weary back and stares up at the weathered face that can only belong to Lovejoy. 

“Good day Miss DeWitt Bukater,” he greets.

“Good day Lovejoy. Does Cal want you to collect the engagement ring from me?” Elizabeth comments, as she starts to remove the ring.

“No Miss DeWitt Bukater,” Lovejoy says in a quiet tone, as he stills her hand.

She notices that his large hand is rough and warm, ‘there is no tingle. When Cal first touched me my hands tingled. I miss his spark. I will not cry in front of Lovejoy.’

“Why are you here then?” she questions.

“The girl is in distress. She needs you,” he explains.

“Pearl! What happened?” Elizabeth asks, alarmed she rises with swift ease as if there are wings on her back. Her feet follow the tune of hastiness as she walks to the door, her loud footsteps echo on the cold wood floor. 

“The argument has left her quite shaken up. She was hiding under the table when I...” Lovejoy tries to explain to her.

“Let’s go then,” Elizabeth interrupts.

Lovejoy blinks at her with an incredulous expression on his sour face.

“I need to go to Pearl. You drove here so I need you to drive me back.”

“Thank you Catherine for listening and helping me,” Elizabeth says.

“Yer welcome dear, I will see ye tomorrow,” Catherine says with a kind smile.

Elizabeth does not hear her. She sits in the automobile tapping with impatience.

When Lovejoy is driving her knees bounce with anticipation, ‘is Pearl alright?’ she thinks, as she fiddles with the small wool dress in her hands.

Her mind is replaying the argument in her head as if it is a broken record and she needs to find the scratch. ‘I do not...maybe Lovejoy knows what angered Cal.’

“Do you know why he got so angry Mr. Lovejoy?” she asks.

Lovejoy slams on the brakes with surprise at being asked.

“Sorry, and no, I was not there. I don’t know what started it. I don’t think it has to do with you though. Caledon has always had a short fuse. You should have seen the way he was when I first started being his valet. One night I was driving him and I made what seemed to be a wrong turn, but it was really a short cut to the destination. He has always been spoiled, entitled, and insecure. Sometimes, the people that are of most value to him he either pushes away or secures them as if they are valuables in his safe,” Lovejoy explains.

Elizabeth shudders at being secured, as if the thought is as cold and foreboding as a long and cold winter wind.

“He is different with you though Miss DeWitt Bukater. I have never seen him so taken with a woman. His father raised him within certain circumstances. I think that perhaps he was insecure. He did his twitchy arms,” he states.

“Twitchy arms?” Elizabeth inquires.

“Yes, when he is in some sort of need for comfort his eyes go very wide and his arms tremble slightly,” Lovejoy informs her with a small smirk and side glance as they pass more brick buildings.

“You make him sound like a child. I am not his mother,” Elizabeth says with a bitter tone.

“No, he was denied his mother a long time ago. I never got to meet her. He was denied what he needed the most. He was thirteen when she died, on the verge of boy and manhood, a time that separates the boys from the men. Here we are Miss DeWitt Bukater,” he proclaims.

“Thank you Lovejoy.”

Elizabeth canters to the apartment as fast as she can in her restricting velvet dress. She does not even bother to knock on the apartment door.

“Madam!” Anne starts with surprise.

Elizabeth does not acknowledge Anne’s surprised gasp. She runs into the dining room to see two little black boots peaking out from underneath the table.

She notices that she is still cradling the controversial dress in her hands, and chooses to leave it in the study, ‘where it is out of sight.’

Elizabeth returns to the dining room and kneels down.

“Pearl,” she calls.

She receives no answer so she positions herself on her hands and knees, mimicking a tabletop as she peeks under the white embroidered tablecloth covered void and sees Pearl sitting cross legged and Ella purring right beside her. A scene of innocence seeking sanctuary.

“I see that Ella has been keeping you company. Would you still like to go to the park with me Pearl? Mr. Lovejoy can drive us,” Elizabeth invites.

“No, I wan...I wan...I wan,” Pearl babbles.

‘Happy, I want happy,’ she thinks.

“I wan happy,” Elizabeth hears her mumble.

“I know sweetheart, I want happy too,” Elizabeth states with a weary sigh and moves towards the call of comfort.

“Papa no ike me,” Pearl whines with a shrill mumble.

“Oh sweet girl. Your papa loves you. He was angry, papa gets angry sometimes. When we love people, even though it does not make sense at all, we sometimes hurt the people we love because we know they will come back. This does not make it right nor does it make our feelings being hurt easier. I did something to make papa angry to-day. I am not going to apologize. I will accept his apology though. We all have parts of ourselves that are insecure sweetheart. Parts that we are afraid to see because it makes us scared of ourselves.

“You are still new to this world love, and you are going to learn all about the uniquely different parts of yourself. I will be loving you through it all, and for who you are to become.

“Strength is accepting and giving those insecure parts of yourself love and understanding that they are just as much a part of you. Accepting those parts and perhaps that you cannot be right all the time. Loving yourself does not only mean the good parts but also the bad. Together, when they are merged, you will see that they become a circle, a circle with no separation. They make you who you are. This might all sound like nonsense, maybe it will make sense.

“I want you to know that I am sorry I left you and I love you Pearl, I will be here for as long as you want me and need me. We can spend a whole day under here if you want. It is quite cozy and safe. Is there a game you want to play?” Elizabeth asks as she shares with Pearl the wisdom that has helped her to navigate the complexities of her life.

~

Cal is sitting in his office, yearning and searching for a break, ‘I cannot break down in front of the men.’

He is nauseous, tired and defeated. There is a part of himself that is ashamed. ‘Elizabeth, stunning and wonderful as she is, does not know what I was or am thinking. I just yelled at her for giving our daughter, because Pearl is going to be our daughter, a dress. Maybe she could have showed it to me before. Knowing my Elizabeth though, it was most likely a surprise. I ruined it, oh how I ruined it. I do not want to go back,’ he thinks with rising anxiety halted by a rumbling stomach, protesting against the refusal of food.

‘Is it time for lunch already? This day is going fast and slow all at once,’ he muses. It is as if the cosmos is teasing him and mocking him with the illusion of time.

~

Under the table Elizabeth and Pearl are petting Ella, their fingers exploring her black fluffy fur and causing her to purr with contentment. Ella is walking around in circles nudging and rubbing against them. Pearl laughs because her, “whithkeyth tickle.”

Elizabeth smiles when she hears Pearl’s laugh. ‘It is the most angelic sound, as if it comes from the mysterious above itself.’

Pearl’s laugh is the most beautiful sound her ears have heard to-day, a light streaming into the fear from the unforeseen events of this morning.

“We are so grateful for you Ella,” Elizabeth whispers, sniffing Ella’s tiny triangle black nose and noticing the tiny white heart-shaped marking on the top of her head.

Ella responds by rubbing her soft dark head against Elizabeth’s chin with affection.

Suddenly they hear the sound of the front door opening and heavy footsteps approaching. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone, 
> 
> I look forward to reading any thoughts or impressions that you would like to share about what you thought of this chapter or the story thus far. 
> 
> I will be sharing again soon hopefully not to far in the distant future.  
> Until then,
> 
> Mystic


	36. Lunchtime Concession

Elizabeth puts her forefinger to her dark pink lips and Pearl covers her mouth with both of her small hands; her blue eyes are wide with fear. Elizabeth makes sure that her green dress is not sticking out from underneath the table, as they are both covered by the long white table cloth.

She hears Anne’s greeting , “Sir, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Is lunch ready Anne?” Cal asks in a weary voice.

“Momentarily sir.”

When Elizabeth hears his deep voice she closes her eyes to camouflage her betraying passion and exchange it for profound irritation that itches like a blistering rash.

Ella sits grooming herself, lifting her left paw up so she can reach her white fur underneath.

Pearl moves from her frozen position and sits on Elizabeth’s shaking lap.

Elizabeth wonders, ‘if Pearl will start grooming herself too.’

The wooden chair at the end of the table slides out with a pained groan and Cal’s long legs appear underneath. Elizabeth has a lewd thought enter her head, but she quickly dismisses it.

She hugs Pearl closer as the small child rests her head on her shoulder, her face buried in her neck. Elizabeth does not really know why they are hiding, ‘perhaps it is part fun and part fear, or perhaps it is because the table creates a void. A place where we can pretend to exist and not exist at once.’

“Where’s Pearl?” Cal inquires.

“I’m sure she’s around here somewhere sir. Would you like me to go and find her?” Anne suggests as her body trembles with timidness.

“Only when lunch is ready.”

‘I do not know if I can face those light blue child-like eyes of hers,’ Cal realizes.

“Did...” he takes a deep shallow breath, “Did Elizabeth return?” 

Anne gulps, ‘what can I do? I do not want to lie to him. I also do not want to bring potential harm to Madam and Pearl. It is not as if I really saw madam, I just heard her.’

Anne has always been a poor liar, people can see right through her. Her tells are too obvious, she licks her dry lips, her large brown doe eyes shift back and forth, and her body goes rim rod straight as if she is a haunted portrait. She is a person of honesty not deceit, ‘it is my duty to serve Mr. Hockley, not Madam’, and when she thinks this she knows what she needs to do.

“Please sir...” 

“Where is she Anne?” he demands in a quiet voice that reverberates with ripples of hidden agitation.

“Under the table sir...they both are,” Anne reveals with deep shame like she is being enveloped by quicksand.

Elizabeth feels her heart quicken and her stomach has flittering butterflies in it. She feels the chasm of her throat bubble with laughter and she fears an erupting giggle. ‘I want to laugh but I cannot, I will not.’

Cal wants to smile at the absurdity of this moment, ‘but I cannot I will not.’ With careful fingers that move with painful strokes of slowness he lifts the white linen table cloth with its textured motifs as if he is peeking under a veil into a new world.

Elizabeth watches the white table cloth lift and sees the dark edge of Cal’s loose cow lick. ‘Maybe if I move a certain way when he lowers his head, and if I move quickly enough, he will bump his head. No, I do not want him to get hurt by one of my hasty actions, plus Pearl could bump her head too. I need to stay and face his wrath.’

Cal lowers his head until he sees the edge of her green sleeved arm. He bends down lower almost falling off his chair in the process to see their faces. 

Elizabeth sees him bending lower, showing his smooth neck and defined jaw bone. ‘I will not let him see how terrified I am.’

Cal first sees Pearl being cradled in Elizabeth’s arms, ‘it is as if she is making herself as small as possible.’

He meets Elizabeth’s defined gaze, her blue eyes are narrowed with a stare that shines like new steel in sun. Yet, he can see the glimpse of shining affection in their depths. ‘She is challenging me.’

Elizabeth sees his handsome face, and dark gaze, one dark eyebrow raised, looking at her, ‘he is challenging me.’

Cal knows what he has to do. He crawls underneath the wooden table, ‘it is strangely quiet under here, as if the world is muffled, silenced.’

He slides himself to Elizabeth’s back and places both of his strong hands on the side her evergreen arms that are cradling Pearl.

Elizabeth flinches at the heated touch that tingles like a spark. ‘I do not want to return to him just for a spark! My love for him betrays me. I do not want to fall into his arms as if nothing happened. I want something…different not just his touch, no matter how good it feels,’ she thinks with a sigh of winded exasperation.

Cal tries to see if Pearl is alright, ‘I know she is, I just want to know that I am alright with her.’ Words feel too loud to be used in this silenced space so he rests his proud chin on Elizabeth’s shoulder and waits for Pearl to come out as if he is coaxing a pearl out of an oyster.

‘While I am waiting I can try and make amends with Elizabeth,’ he thinks as he noses Elizabeth’s pale cheek and she turns her head to look into his apologetic gaze.

Her blue eyes gazing with their circle of gold around the iris remind Cal of when he first looked into them ‘it felt as if I was looking into the ocean’s light.’ In her ethereal stare he finds a bright star that is shining light into his dark chasms.

Elizabeth gazes into Cal’s deep brandy pools, his rich brown eyes, ‘that he somehow makes bigger, their dark fathoms brimming with moisture like a mud puddle that reflects the clouds above. I know, I know I cannot stay mad at him. His temper is a part of him just as much as his charm and wit. He did not hurt me, and he certainly is not hurting us now. I will not apologize for my actions. I can see how tired he is, the dark circles around his eyes show that he is haunted by an echo of the sacred slumber he has missed. Maybe Pearl can come home with me and he can sleep in his bed,’ Elizabeth postulates in a silent conversation of realizations and reflections.

An electric current drifts down to her feet like an alighted glowing river coursing through her. She extends her legs to relieve herself of the intense cramping sensation.

As she shifts, Pearl shifts as well.

Pearl turns her curly head and sees Cal’s pleading face. Pearl feels wet tear tracks on her cheeks.

Cal opens his arms with a small pout.

‘I no let go of Pretty Lady,’ she shakes with fluid stubbornness, her golden curls framing her face as she moves her head back and forth like a wet dog. 

Elizabeth sees Cal’s open arms and heart. She also feels Pearl’s tears smear on her shoulder and feels Pearl’s shaking denial. 

Cal can see that Pearl is terrified of him. ‘Her blue eyes are wide and she is crying, she is afraid of me.’ He starts to pull away, closing his arms like a broken book cover.

Elizabeth shifts into a crouch, and like a primate with a baby, nestles into his closing arms. 

‘He needs to know he is forgiven, he did warn me of his temper. I see how sorry he is. We may have this cosmic intimate connection, however we are still learning about each other as people. I have my fits and in a way so does he. I do not want him to leave,’ she thinks as she falls into his arms and embraces him.

Cal returns Elizabeth’s forgiving embrace. Pearl is confined in the middle as if she is a curly piece of lettuce in a sandwich.

“I apologize,” Cal whispers in her ear in a transparent tone of calm and love. His hot breath is like molten lava flowing to her core.

‘I do not want to use words,’ Elizabeth tells herself. Instead, she chooses to kiss him a kiss that promises endearment and dedication, a kiss that breathes forgiveness, tolerance, and acceptance into both of their beings.

Elizabeth is so overcome by the flowing heat and love, by Cal’s soft lips moving and pursing with hers in an impassioned caper of many feelings, that she ignores the strange squirming that is cradled near her growing breasts.

Pearl is being squished. ‘I no like,’ she pushes Elizabeth who relinquishes her forgotten hold and rubs her ribs in soothing circles.

Cal sees what happened. He also notices that it is nowhere near the area of her belly button, ‘no harm done.’

Elizabeth looks at him with empathetic intensity, her blue eyes soft with kindness. She squeezes his hand exchanging silent comfort.

“No woawing!” Pearl states in a firm pitched voice with a dignified pout, as she points her small index finger at his chest. “You no lion, I thcawed.” 

“How about we talk about this at the table,” Cal suggests.

“We at table,” Pearl retorts with a bluntness that only a child can invent as she hugs her knees close to her chest in a hug of comfort.

“Very well,” Cal murmurs as he struggles to find a comfy sitting position and decides to copy Pearl, knees to his chest despite his hunched back.

Elizabeth is sitting on the sides of her legs.

Cal’s deep voice reverberates under the hollow void as if he is an ancient nature spirit who speaks the voices of the ages. 

“Very well, I apologize to you, to both of you,” he conveys with tenderness as he reaches for Elizabeth’s outstretched hand and gives it a soothing squeeze. “I got very angry this morning and I took it out on Elizabeth. Pearl you have been one day with me and you must think me a monster.” 

“No,” Pearl tells him, in a small voice, “You no mothtew, mothtew live undew bwidge, and all ugly, you no ugly papa, you woaw.” 

“Roar, yes I guess this morning I did roar. I lost my temper, I was blind with rage,” he explains with flooding shame. 

“May I ask why?” Elizabeth asks with a deep whisper. 

“It seems trivial now,” he says, ashamed.

‘It really does, it made me almost lose the two soon to be three people in my life,’ Cal reflects.

“Nothing is trivial for you to react like that,” Elizabeth states with calm strength.

Pearl decides that this conversation is ‘boring.’ She wonders where Ella is, and scrambles out of the muffled world, unbeknownst to the couple. 

Cal takes a deep breath, “It was the dress.”

‘I knew it had to do with the dress,’ Elizabeth reflects with satisfaction. Choosing to stay silent.

“My father always told me that it is a man’s purpose to provide for his family. I know I only have had Pearl in my life for one day. The act that you brought her the dress when it is my duty to...I felt like a failure. I can’t even be a father for one day Elizabeth. I said horrible things to you,” Cal explains, with deep contempt for himself and lingering anger toward his impulsive words, that were created from a raging wildfire deep within his core. 

“Not untrue though. Having and carrying babies is my purpose Cal. If you don’t mind, I would rather see it as a choice. There is more than carrying that is involved in being a mother. Once the baby is born it is you and I from the very beginning, we help this baby be the best it can be. With Pearl it is a little different, our love for her won’t wane. This morning I was trying to help. I knew that you didn’t have a dress for her, you are a man of luxury and you are very busy. I thought I was helping by bringing over the dress. I did not intend to cause distress. I did not intend to overstep, even though that is what I did,” Elizabeth expresses, with honest pride for her words and her strength to stay and listen.

“I see that. I just wanted to show Pearl that I am able to take care of her and you as well,” Cal divulges.

“I know. You are taking care of us darling.” 

“Sweet pea, I screamed at you, and you came back why?” he wonders as he holds onto Elizabeth’s bare hands and caresses her engagement ring.

Elizabeth ponders on his words as she looks down at his left thumb tracing the ring on her jewelled finger, ignoring the kindling tingles, ‘why did I come back? It was to see Pearl at first maybe, it definitely was not because Lovejoy told me too, it was because…’

“Because I love you Cal, when are you going to get it in that handsome head of yours that I love you. You did warn me that you have a bad temper. I just didn’t know how bad, you were scary, but you were also scared. I know your father told you certain ideas and you are a man of your circumstances and those certain circumstances were weighing on you to-day,” Elizabeth expresses to him with empathy as she looks at the vulnerable man in front of her. 

“Is love enough though?” Cal asks in a voice that is thick with emotion.

“What?” 

“Is loving me enough, what if one day all you see is my temper and you don’t...”

Elizabeth stills his moving lips with her dainty forefinger, “You listen to me good and you listen to me well, Mr. Caledon Hockley, we come into this world an innocent babe. We learn from our parents and our maids and nurses, along our way we find that we have our own thoughts too. We are all uniquely different. When I was little I just wanted to belong somewhere, but it was my journey to find that I can wholeheartedly belong in myself. You are uniquely different too. Yes, you have a temper. But Cal, sweetheart, the way you love and have passion, the way you feel that intensity, that can lead to your temper. It is the same intensity, just as much as that passion ignites the way you adopted Pearl, the way you make love to me, and in other ways I yet know not. You are so devoted Cal, your passion becomes ignited,” she conveys to him with rising passion.

Cal accepts her loving words with a searing kiss on her interrupting finger that is placed with perfection on his mischievous upturning lips. 

“You sound like my mother,” he mutters with a soft smile.

“I don’t want to be your mother, I want to be your wife,” Elizabeth retorts with a frown, stroking her impassioned forefinger that feels imprinted with Cal’s passion, like ink through paper. He has seared his mark on her through layers of her skin for eternity.  
“I need to learn to balance it. I don’t want what happened this morning to happen again. I know and I tried to keep it at bay. I am a failure sweet pea,” Cal explains with a dejected sigh.

“No you aren’t, you are learning about yourself. This could be the first time that your temper has ever hurt somebody, you told me that you were known to have a bad temper...” Elizabeth ponders.

“You’re right. How can you see something that I can’t see in myself?” he inquires, gazing at the omniscient goddess before him.

“Because we are reflections for each other darling, we each reflect parts of ourselves differently depending on who we meet,” Elizabeth shares.

“What reflection do I give you?” Cal whispers with intrigue clear in his voice.

Elizabeth looks up at him with a dark blush tinting her fair cheeks.

“Darling you intrigue me, ignite me, and need me. You awaken something in me, a burning pull that I have never felt before. You call to me, like a wise creature I have yet to name. You teach me about trust and in doing so I am learning how to trust you and how to trust myself. You show me that I can be loved by a man of Best Society. Darling, no man of Best Society has ever reflected that to me before.’

“Is that why I helped Abe with Pearl then?” Cal perplexes.

Elizabeth shrugs, “Did you do it out of duty because you had to or did you do it out of love for Pearl?” 

“Love. I didn’t want her to go to the children’s hospital or an orphanage,” Cal states with ease.

Elizabeth listens to his revelations, “I love Pearl too. I grew up with a good name and I am a woman of high social standing. I don’t want her to wear rags either.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Cal asks with his dark brown eyebrows furrowed with bemusement.

“Because, my fiancé, you will learn that I can be quite vain and care about my appearances. It is not an obvious trait, it is there however. I just want you to know that I care about my social standing despite, well, it’s certain aspects. I don’t know anything else than my privileged life.

“I was raised to provide for my family the only way a mother can by sacrifices. My body is going to change Cal and I know it’s natural but there will be certain aspects that won’t come back. It sounds ridiculous saying it out loud,” Elizabeth confides as her fingers tremble with excavated vulnerability.

Cal does not know how to reply, ‘I am not familiar with seeing a woman with child. I want to say you will always be beautiful but that does not sound right.’

“The only woman with child that I have seen was my mother. I don’t really remember what she looked like,” he looks at her with a smirk and with mirth shining in his dark gaze, “Will you get warts?” 

“I beg you pardon?” 

“Further along will you get warts?” 

“No, just bigger.” 

“Then, my vain flower, my love for you will grow bigger as well,” Cal murmurs with a charming grin.

“I am being serious Cal.” 

“So am I.”

While Cal and Elizabeth are under the table talking Pearl goes searching for Ella. She checks the bedroom, the lavatory, and notices on her hunt that the door to the study is open.

Ella is sleeping on the white dress, ‘the really pretty dress Pearl like, no loves. Pearl love this dress and Pearl really want to look like Pretty Lady.’

She carefully picks Ella up because ‘she is oh so cute,’ and gently places her on the chair.

“Whe u go Ella,” Pearl whispers with a soft tone of gentleness.

The upset cat jumps off in retaliation and clear annoyance. Her straight black fluffy tail wagging to the steps of her haughty walk is a sign of her transparent irritation as she struts to the kitchen to clean herself. Pearl picks up the dress and follows Ella’s bothered path to the kitchen to find Anne. ‘I wan suwpwise papa and m...Pretty Lady.’

“Anne?” she asks, “hel?” 

Anne sees Pearl and the dress, she figures what the little girl wants her to do. “I don’t know Pearl,” she mutters as her right forefinger taps her chin with indecisiveness.

‘I don’t want what happened this morning to happen again,’ Anne thinks.

“Pwweathe,” Pearl begs.

‘It really is a lovely dress, I know that much,’ Anne muses as she admires the white dress adorned with bows and puffed sleeves.

“Come here then,” Anne beckons as she unbuttons the white pearl buttons and straightens the blue satin bow around the waist. She unbuttons Pearl’s wooden buttons on her blue dress. She keeps the white stockings on and helps Pearl step into the white wool dress adorned with sky blue bows. She stops the grinning toddler who has started to spin around and closes the pearl buttons on the back of the newly dressed princess.

In the this moment Pearl becomes Princess Pearl. “I’M PWINTHETH PEAWL, I’M PWINTHETH PEAWL, I’M PWINTHETH PEAWL!” she screams, laughing and giggling. 

~

“So am I,” Cal finishes and is about to say more but is interrupted by the blissful sounds of Pearl laughing and giggling. Cal and Elizabeth, with dignity and grace, crawl from underneath the table, where he takes her hand and assists her up.

“Looks like she likes the dress,” Elizabeth observes, with a contented sigh like a balmy summer breeze as she dusts off the skirt of her green dress.

Cal nods, ‘I suppose providing does not have to imply buying. It does not matter who gave Pearl her first dress. I had no dresses when I was little. It is quite endearing that Elizabeth gave one of her dresses from when she was a child,’ he realizes with a wistful smile for the woman beside him.

“You’re right sweet pea, that dress does look like _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,”_ he compliments with his hands on his hips.

“You read _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_?” Elizabeth gasps as she looks up at him with surprise.

“My mother did, she wanted me to have an imagination. Would Princess Pearl like to sit for lunch before she goes on her royal excursion?” Cal questions with a charming smile, showing off his glinting white teeth in the cloudy afternoon light.

Pearl runs into Cal’s protective arms and nuzzles her button nose in his broad shoulder, ‘I safe,’ she tells herself, ‘I safe.’

Lunch is served in an air of unity with future promises of love and being loved, and to accept each other with wholeheartedness. Elizabeth is a maiden nourished in abundant bliss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, 
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> I invite you to share any comments or thoughts about what you think about this chapter or the story thus far. 
> 
> Until I share again,  
> Mystic


	37. Mischievous Maidens

After a full lunch the cream pottery sandwich plate with blue swirls has one lone brown bread duck sandwich left sitting among its less popular comrades of apple and cheese sandwiches. It lies awaiting to be chosen from the brass tray, which now also carries the two empty white china soup bowls whose only companions are the silver spoons in their shallow basins.

Cal is still eating, knowing he has to go back to the mill despite being very tired. He contemplates this morning’s discussion about the importance of safety. 

Elizabeth sees him stirring the shallow pool of the creamy apple soup around in his bowl. ‘I do not know how to talk to him,’ she realizes with sprouting nerves.

Pearl notices that Cal is quiet too. She feels his unusual stillness and leaves her seat to see him. She climbs on his lap and puts her two little hands on his smooth cheeks. “Papa,” she chirps.

He chuckles, “Yes, princess?”

Pearl looks down at his bowl with furrowed golden eyebrows and wonders, ‘I like soup, why papa no like?’

She points her small forefinger at the dish. “Eat,” she commands.

He chuckles with fatigue, “I am eating princess. I am just a little tired. A princess has taken my bed.” 

Elizabeth shifts in her seat and clears her throat, ‘I can do this, I trust him. But perhaps ‘think’ is too much of a word right now, annoying really. I do not want to offend him if he thinks I am thinking too much,’ she postulates with frustration.

“Cal, I have been pondering about something…” she starts.

She can feel his stare filled with concern and compassion, as if in his deep umber gaze he sees her plight. ‘Can I speak or will he lose his temper?’ she wonders, trying to stay rooted in forgiveness.

Cal can see Elizabeth’s trepidation as she looks down at her lap as if the shiny green velvet fabric of her dress holds an antidote to this dammed air. ‘I need to put her at ease,’ he muses.

“Go on,” he encourages as Pearl toddles off his lap and ventures into the living room to have a visit with Ella.

‘Is that calming? I don’t really know. Silence is much more blissful now. It is as if words are being weighed with so much care. Where is the ease and the wit she used before?’ he questions to himself.

Elizabeth weighs her budding words with caution, ‘if he loses his temper again…why am I afraid of him? Right, he told me to go on.’

“I was pondering that if you permit it, I could take Pearl home with me to-night and you could sleep in your bed. You can pick her up tomorrow when you come for the appointment. If you wish of course,” Elizabeth proposes with armoured daring around her heart, willing her voice to be a shield that does not shake like her feet underneath the wooden void of the table.

Cal looks down at the golden beige creamy liquid, blinking away the exhaustion that is pooling in the corners of his eyes. He ponders on Elizabeth’s proposal with a deep pout.

‘The offer is very tempting and I do trust her with Pearl. Then what is holding me back? On paper Pearl is my daughter, it is not like I can care for her during work. Maybe I fear the the empty apartment and not seeing Elizabeth everyday. This is it!’ he concludes with silent pride.

“I will miss the both of you being here. There won’t be a reason for you to come anymore this week except to see me at the mill and even then this is hardly a place for a child,” Cal reveals after flowing through his tumultuous thoughts.

“Do you have days off?” Elizabeth inquires.

“I have Sunday’s off. I think it is for the best, considering next month I will be away for the whole month. Lovejoy can drive you to your house to-night after the park,” Cal determines.

“May I talk with you to-night before bed on the telephone?” Elizabeth questions as she looks at Cal through her long brown nut-hued eyelashes with shy coquettishness.

Cal clears his throat so his voice is not molten with desire from Elizabeth’s innocent lidded gaze that sends a river of heat all the way down to his groin.

“Yes, I should be finished at nine o’clock so call at ten o’clock and sweet pea, thank you,” he recovers with deep gratitude.

Elizabeth smiles at him and reaches across the wood expanse for his hand, stretching and uniting over a brown meadow in an oval world. 

“You need to rest and sleep in a bed. Sleeping in a chair is not suitable for a man of your standing. No matter how much of a gentleman you are being. You are to provide for your family. We need you to be the best you can be,” Elizabeth affirms, her voice suffused with the elements of the elixir of their relationship: understanding, love, compassion, support, and devotion.

He is once again astounded by her, ‘I do not quite know why. The words she used. It is as if she woke me up somehow, made me see…’

“I am going to take the afternoon off and get some rest, have a nice time at the park, don’t go dress shopping without me I want to be a part of it. Oh, yes, I would like Ella to stay here with me for the week,” Cal says as a wave of great relief washes over him.

“Oh,” he adds, “Do you have a jacket or wrap for Pearl? It is quite cool out,” he murmurs.

“Of course,” Elizabeth says with relief in her heart and smiles at the thought of Pearl wearing the matching light blue cloak.

“And it’s alright if Ella stays with me?” he repeats.

“As you wish,” Elizabeth says with a soft smile.

Cal takes a sip of his soup before he asks Anne to relay his orders to his office and to leave a message for Joseph to shadow his second supervisor in command who Cal trusts to be successful for the afternoon.

Pearl is unaware of the conversation between Cal and Elizabeth. She did not even perk up at the mention of Ella as she wriggles around on the couch with Ella in bliss.

Cal roars a loud yawn and Pearl perks up at the primal sound, “Papa theepy,” she chimes with a giggle.

“You’re right, I am sleepy,” he confirms in a gruff voice, wiping his welling eyes that leak lassitude.

“Would you like me to tuck you in?” Elizabeth teases. 

“No,” he says looking at her with a jaded squint shadowed by his brandy stare.

Elizabeth shrugs and takes a third duck sandwich, ignoring the length and lushness of his divine ebony eyelashes.

Cal cannot stop yawning behind his hand. It is like a steady stream, one after the other. Nausea wallows in his gut, ‘I need to sleep.’

“I am going to excuse myself from this table and go to the bedroom,” he announces. He brushes Elizabeth’s left cheek with a light kiss and declares in a deep tender tone from his caverned depths, “I love you both, see you tomorrow.”

He walks over to Pearl and crouches down with a soft smile, “I will see you tomorrow princess. Have fun at the park with Elizabeth.”

“Love you,” Elizabeth trills in a song of lyricism before she sees the bedroom door ‘clicking’ closed.

“Pearl when you are ready to stop playing with Ella we can go,” she states.

“Go!” Pearl exclaims with a squeal of excitement.

“Alright then,” Elizabeth replies as she munches and savours the remaining half of her satisfying sandwich that nourishes her body all the way down to her toes.

As Anne comes to clear the table Elizabeth requests, “Anne, could you put the light blue cape that is in the trunk on Pearl please?”

Pearl stands by the front door twirling in her new ensemble. She cannot stop fiddling with the plain silver clasps in the shape of flowers carved by a silver master’s hand.

Elizabeth smiles when she sees her delightful dance.

“Thank you for taking care of Pearl, Anne,” Elizabeth compliments with a kind voice, as she stills a whirling Pearl with a soft hand on her short shoulder.

“Oh,” Elizabeth remembers, “the top hat,” she whispers.

She saunters to the bedroom passing a sleeping Cal whose back is turned towards her, his light sleeping whistles filling the room. Elizabeth stifles a laugh of endearment as she reaches for the top hat laid on the soft cream cushion of the ebony throne chair as if it is a sitting crown for a king. She sends Cal’s dreaming body a kiss while closing the door with a silent grip.

Elizabeth places the top hat on Pearl’s head adorning the princess with her crown.

Anne arranges the gold cloak around Elizabeth’s shoulders. With silent breath she fastens the cool metal clips that shine on top of her warm fair skin. She admires the intricate knot works encrusted with sparkling emeralds.

The large wool cape shivers and drifts in a mischievous wind as if it is being blown with the sands of adventure.

“Are you leaving madam?” Anne asks with unconscious relief, as she adjusts Elizabeth’s embroidered gold wool gloves.

“I am going to take Pearl home with me so that Cal can get proper rest.” 

“Will I see you again madam?” 

“I am sure of it,” Elizabeth states with a confident smile.

Elizabeth holds onto Pearl’s hand as they walk down the eternally dim hallway to meet Lovejoy. She knocks on the hollow door with light taps, and the imposing, burly, and somewhat intimidating figure of Lovejoy appears.

“We would like to go now,” she tells him. 

“Very well.”

He looks down at Pearl wearing the white dress with light blue bows, radiating endearment as she looks up at him with the top hat.

“I see that you reached an agreement with Caledon,” he observes.

“Yes.” 

“Good.”

They walk the rest of the way to the automobile in silence and no words are exchanged as Lovejoy hands Elizabeth two large motor jackets from the trunk.

“To Rittenhouse Square, Miss DeWitt Bukater?” he asks from behind the wheel.

“Yes. Actually...can we make it Fairmount Park, please,” Elizabeth requests.

Lovejoy drives to Fairmount Park on smooth roads, with calm breezes, free from the trauma of their previous drives.

~

Pearl watches as all the houses become straight lines again as the automobile zooms past. She sees people walking. ‘No dressed like pretty lady and me.’

“I Pwetty Lady too,” Pearl whispers, to no one in particular. 

“Yes, you are. You are always pretty Pearl. That dress on you makes you even more pretty,” Elizabeth conveys with honesty as she adjusts the large beige motor jacket around Pearl.

Pearl notices that the sky is changing, it is becoming lighter, “Wight oud.” 

Elizabeth looks out at the passing world and sees that they have already moved away from the industrial area of the city.

“Yes, we are driving away from the mill so the air is going to be clearer.” 

“Why we go?” 

“Why do we go to the park?” Elizabeth relays back as she fiddles with the sleeve of her matching motor wrap.

Pearl nods with affirmation. Her sapphire eyes look up at Elizabeth for all of the answers to her questions that remain unasked, as if the puzzle of the world is laid before her and new pieces get added all the time, pieces that don’t necessarily have a place, yet.

“Because it is important for you to get nice fresh air and I want to tell you something important,” Elizabeth reveals.

“Baby?” Pearl asks, placing her small hand on Elizabeth’s flat stomach.

Pearl’s small pale hand contrasts with the rich darkness of the green velvet that resembles the rich colour of evergreen leaves in all the seasons of the world as they glint in the precious light of the sun. 

“No it does not have to do with the baby, it has to do with you Pearl. I just want to spend some time with you if that is alright?” Elizabeth invites with a delicate smile, as she opens a sacred place in her heart for Pearl to explore.

“Ye,” Pearl cheeps as her gaze is drawn once more to look out the open window. The houses are not moving in a line anymore. She has never been so far away before. It is scary but also not, as she knows she is safe with Elizabeth.

Then the automobile stops.

“We hew?” she asks as she takes off her hat of safety and lays it on the seat beside her.

“You don’t want to wear your hat Pearl?” Elizabeth asks.

“No, I thathe,” Pearl states with a confident chirp.

Elizabeth’s heart soars like a bird free to rise on a new current of wind.

Lovejoy gets out of the driver’s seat and opens the passenger door. ‘It is my duty to keep on eye them even if they do not know it. Caledon Hockley would not permit me to let them out of my sight,’ he proclaims with his silent oath of loyalty.

The red automobile door opens revealing a world of potential that is just footsteps away. Lovejoy observes Pearl sitting on Elizabeth’s lap beaming a toothy smile and bouncing on her small knees with eagerness. He remains silent with aloofness, wanting to grumble at the sight of innocence.

“Pearl, I am going to show you how a pretty lady gets out of the car, would you like to see?” Elizabeth invites as she lifts the small girl jouncing on her lap and shifts her over to her right.

Pearl nods, with her fingers in her mouth, entranced by Elizabeth’s soft voice and care as she sits on the cold leather.

“I am going to give my hand to Mr. Lovejoy and he will help me out of the car. See? Your turn,” Elizabeth demonstrates.

Pearl is so excited, ‘I wan do as Pretty Lady did!’ She claps her sticky hands in excitement and sits on her covered knees with eagerness like a puppy learning a new trick.

“Sit on your derrière love. Feet close to the floor. Back straight. Chin up. Now give him this hand, that’s right darling. And carefully step out,” Elizabeth coaches with patience as she touches Pearl’s drool covered left hand.

“I see, I see, I see, I do, I do, I do, just wike Pwetty Lady!” Pearl exclaims with excited joy.

“Good job Pearl I am proud of you,” Elizabeth tells her, with an appreciative smile as her thoughts ramble down brooks of gratitude.

‘I am grateful that Cal adopted her and she took to us quickly. In less then two days really, and that she did not go into a children’s hospital or orphanage. Who knows where she would have ended up, maybe a family or worse a textile factory when she would be a few years older. I am so beholden that Pearl is with Cal and I. She can be a child…’

“L...a...d...y ...tty ...day.”

Elizabeth is pulled out of her musings by Pearl’s small voice and the touch on her dangling fingers.

“I apologize Pearl, did you say something?” 

“whewe go?” 

“Well I was thinking that we could walk until we get tired, how does that sound? Take my hand and you lead the way, I will follow. Will you be following as well Mr. Lovejoy?” Elizabeth says with a relaxed smile on her dusky pink lips as she looks at Lovejoy with her yellow ochre hood part way over the chestnut mound on her head.

“Of course Miss DeWitt Bukater, however I will not be taking your hand,” Lovejoy accepts.

“No, I didn’t think you would,” Elizabeth says with a slight head shake.

Elizabeth walks right beside Pearl who is doing a fine job of being a leader, she is not going too fast and she has her hand clasped in Elizabeth’s gloved hold.

Elizabeth follows with dutiful feet until she is inundated by a visiting cramp, ‘why does this always happen at the park?’ she thinks, perturbed.

“Pearl I need to stop for a minute,” she expresses in a flat tone disguising her discomfort.

‘I am appreciative that the first time this happened mother was here to tell me what was happening. I do not want to sit for too long,’ she postulates as she spots a bench beside a large oak tree.

“Pwetty Lady?” Pearl asks, her blue eyes are wide with concern and her golden head of loose downy curls keeps rotating around the park looking at all of the different paths before her.

“I am alright Pearl,” Elizabeth sighs.

After a quiet moment of sitting she says, “Pearl let’s go now.” 

“No, thtay.” 

“There is so much more of the park to see,” Elizabeth coaxes.

“I lead, I thtay,” Pearl affirms.

“You are very smart Pearl and you are right, we will stay here,” Elizabeth confirms in a light voice of bliss.

“I ike twee,” Pearl says, lifting her sapphire gaze up to look at the tall gnarled oak tree, with bare brown branches. She then tracks the branches with her oceanic stare, ogling the textured bark that looks like rivulets of old desert weathered brittle skin. Then her gaze once more travels skyward as her mind processes the old giant in their midst.

“It is a very nice tree, the leaves will be coming out soon, the buds are just waiting to burst into bloom. We can look at the patterning of the branches as if it was a character out of a story,” Elizabeth sighs with a dreamy stare.

“She tells the best stories,” a melodic voice says from behind them. 

“Rosie! I thought that we would meet by the...and how were you and Ophelia so quiet?” Elizabeth extrapolates, aghast as she looks at her regal sister atop her noble steed of bravery.

Rose smiles at her sister who can be so observant and absentminded at the same time. ‘It is one of my favourite things about her because when she does speak truth, it is as if she is transmuting her voice from somewhere else, a mystical realm,’ Rose muses.

“I finished playing tennis with a few finishing school classmates and saw it was not raining. Edward said Ophelia was restless so here we are...he really is handsome you know,” Rose reveals with a blush that mirrors her name.

“Who?” Elizabeth hoots.

“Edward silly. You know I am not surprised that...” 

“Rosie stop. This is certainly not the time or place, especially in front of a child,” Elizabeth admonishes as Rose’s aquatic gaze notices the small child sitting beside Elizabeth kicking her small legs as if she is running on air. Her innocent stare is gaping at the tall giant beside them.

Elizabeth touches Pearl’s shoulder to bring her back to this seated realm instead of the reaching earth realm above and below her. 

Rose walks around the wood and iron bench to meet her new niece, ‘I suppose, new kin at least.’

”B is that...” Rose asks with a gasp of familiarity as she admires Pearl’s dress.

“I found it in the bottom drawer of my dresser this morning, and I thought it would suit her,” Elizabeth murmurs.

“Fits perfectly,” Rose says as her dark blue eyes admire the nostalgic dress being worn anew. She smiles at the puffed sleeves that have been caught in a bramble or two in the past.

Elizabeth is amused that Pearl is still looking at the tree.

“Pearl,” Elizabeth starts, “I would like for you to meet someone.” 

Pearl looks down from looking up at the tree, her distant stare now focusing on the new woman in front of her, the auburn curls, fuchsia pink lips, and large blue eyes.

Rose is wearing a white and black riding habit that has a shining pink stone clasped in the centre of her white high neck blouse. She leans over, with hands on her knees and looks down at Pearl.

“This is my sister Rose, she is someone who is very important to me,” Elizabeth introduces.

“Wha thithto?” Pearl asks, not even acknowledging the beautiful, angelic stranger before her.

“We have the same mother,” Rose tells her as she bends down and kneels before the small child, “I am Rose. What is your name?”

“Peawl.” 

“Pearl, that is a very nice name.” 

“You ike Pwetty Lady too?” Pearl inquires with chiming bluntness.

“She calls me Pretty Lady,” Elizabeth states as she caresses Pearl’s golden curls with her gold gloved hand.

“I like and love Pretty Lady,” Rose emphasizes.

“Me too, I’m pwetty too, thee,” Pearl states as she spreads her arms wide showing off her new dress adorned with glacial blue bows.

“I do see that.”

“I no call you Pwetty Lady.” 

“No and why is that?” Rose prods with a playful smile.

“One Pwetty Lady. Hew,” Pearl states as she points and crawls onto Elizabeth’s lap.

“You know Pearl, you and I are going to be good friends. Do you know why?” Rose asks with a mischievous smile.

Pearl shakes her head.

“Because I think she is pretty too,” Rose says in a warm voice, looking over at Elizabeth.

Pearl smiles, giggles, and kicks her small pudgy legs. She opens her small arms for Rose to hug her.

“Oh thank you for that hug, that was the nicest thing that has happened to me to-day. B...why is there a man watching us?” Rose observes with her invisible hackles up. 

“That’s Cal’s valet, Lovejoy. He is watching, and not watching us,” Elizabeth grumbles, as her blue gaze evades the chilling direction of Lovejoy.

“Do you think he hears us? Do you think we need to speak in Pig Latin or something?” Rose ponders.

“Rose that would be a conversation all by yourself I am afraid. I only know a little Gaelic, some French, and very little Latin. I can’t read books for hours like you do,” Elizabeth states with a fond smile as she remembers rebellious times in the library and tutoring lessons.

“Yes, well I am glad that we are different.” 

“Me too.” 

“It’s suffocating knowing that he might hear us. He is definitely watching us, do you want to try and lose him by running?” Rose proposes with a bright conniving grin.

“No Rosie...I don’t,” Elizabeth says with a depleted sigh, as if the idea of mischief is a leaf blowing in the wind and the closer she gets to grabbing it the further it blows away. Her ultramarine gaze is cast downwards into the core of the earth.

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yes, how was your morning?” Elizabeth pivots.

Rose rolls her bright azure eyes with agitation at Elizabeth’s ability to circumvent topics, “I played tennis with Emily Davenport, she was in your year of finishing school right?”

“Yes.” 

“She tells me to greet you.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“How was your morning?” Rose inquires.

Elizabeth looks at Lovejoy with determination pooling and churning in her being.

She picks up Pearl and says, “Go quick and go slow.” She points with her aurelian shrouded head to the other side of the bush. 

Rose smiles with satisfaction, ‘B is going to be mischievous.’ Rose walks to the path between the bushes, creating an idea to distract Lovejoy.

Elizabeth has an idea, “Rose we have to distract him by using Ophelia. I need you to ride past him. Distract him somehow when he looks up at you. Pearl and I will leave through the bushes and run for the lake that we go to, understood?” 

“Yes.” 

“Alright, Pearl we are going to play a game with Mr. Lovejoy,” Elizabeth says with fluttering butterflies in her core that are taking flight by the thousands. 

“Why?” Pearl chirps.

“Because it will be fun for us and not him,” Elizabeth explains.

“Papa mad.”

“Papa is not here. I need to tell Rose something and I don’t want Mr. Lovejoy to listen,” Elizabeth whispers knowing she is probably doing something idiotic and bad that will probably anger Cal.

‘I will take full responsibility if he finds out and face his wrath. I will not let any harm come to Pearl,’ she decides with fierce decision.

“Pearl stay within my sight and go and explore that tree,” Elizabeth whispers with tenderness as she points to a small sapling reaching for light.

From her peripheral vision she can see Rose and Ophelia trot with charm and expert ease, demonstrating their connection in body and mind, one and the same as Ophelia’s radiant jet black feathers on her hooves wisp in the wind of a mischievous dance. No orders are being given, their prance is one of symbiotic harmony. Bystanders in the park gawk at the handsome horse and beautiful woman bestriding her.

Elizabeth sees her chance created, and scoops a giggling Pearl into her arms, sneaking around and behind a green bush. Their cloaks spiral around them in a display of earth and sky as they travel in a world of brittle branches and mossy stones. When they reach the dirt levelled path Elizabeth puts Pearl down and holds her small grubby hand. They follow the quiet dirt road until they reach the lake.

Inside a hidden enclave they are surrounded by trees, some fallen over and supporting each other, nurturing each other in a grove of growth. The dull light of the sun shines through, drying the damp with its soft yellow beams. Birds flit and thither chasing bugs and falling seeds from the chilling wind, seeking nourishment in melting frost.

Elizabeth smiles when she hears Ophelia’s snorts and heavy hooves charge upon the quiet earth.

In a mossy glen three maidens find sanctuary.

Rose smiles and murmurs whispered truths to Ophelia as she ties the magnificent midnight beauty to a branch.

Elizabeth chooses to sit on a moss covered log with Pearl on her lap looking in the direction of the lake of stillness.

“It almost didn’t work you know,” Rose tells her, exhilarated and laughing.

“What did you want to talk about? I love it here,” Rose states with a sigh of contentment and relaxation as she places her hands on her sculpted hips caged in her corset.

“Cal and I had our first argument this morning,” Elizabeth confides, her chin in Pearl’s curls, grounding her words.

“Did he...”

“No.” 

“He lion,” Pearl says, before wandering off to explore the quiet glen of candour and moss dusted shores. 

“Come walk and talk Rose,” Elizabeth invites with a breath of truth, beauty, freedom, and love in a sanctuary of authenticity.

~

Lovejoy knew that perhaps Elizabeth would try and lose him. ‘She is too spirited to be controlled. I always like a good chase.’

He sits amongst the muted distance, the stone pathway dividing them like a dry creek bed. He watches and listens to the body language as he surveys Elizabeth and Pearl sitting by the large oak tree. He beholds an attractive young woman approach with red hair bright like fire and observes how Elizabeth’s tense posture transforms into a smile of radiant laughter. He watches Pearl embrace Rose and chooses to rest with sharp ice blue eyes awake.

He observes them talking in close proximity, ‘it as if they are conspiring. But that can’t be,’ Lovejoy ponders as he shakes his jowls, not noticing the hidden glances that Rose makes in his direction.

He watches Elizabeth and Pearl move closer to the patch of green bushes. Then, as if out of nowhere, a black mass obscures his vision, like the blanket of darkness has fallen on top of his world of day.

He brings his blue eyed gaze up from the luminous dappled black coat in front of him.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Rose greets with a bright smile. Her white teeth shimmer in the early afternoon like the precious stones of pearls. She gives Lovejoy a dainty finger wave and canters away with gallops of grace. 

He then notices that Elizabeth and ‘Miss Hockley I suppose’, are not there. A rare smile comes to his face, ‘I have been had,’ he grins a grin of stained yellow teeth that reflect the dull light of the sun hiding behind a cloud.

‘If Miss DeWitt Bukater can play this game, I can as well. I am a master finder and chaser. Caledon really knows how to pick women,’ he thinks with an optimistic smirk that defies his true feelings of uncertainty.

Lovejoy has no idea where to find them and he does not have any dignity left to ask, “Have you seen two women, a girl and a horse?”

He looks around the expansive green meadow before him and does not know where to start, ‘considering I do not journey to Fairmount Park very often.’ He tries to look for horse tracks, and finds a fresh set, so he follows them, only to see that they belong to other horses in the park, that are not black.

“Excuse me, have you seen a woman cantering on a black horse?” he asks.

“Can’t say that I have,” is the polite reply from a rider on a bay horse.

~

“So that’s it, he got mad about not being the one to be able to give the dress to Pearl?” Rose repeats with a voice of light displeasure. 

“I think that was not the only part. He just...felt like a failure, we all have insecurities Rose,” Elizabeth expresses.

“How can you be so patient with him? I would have probably slapped him or spit in his face like a man,” Rose retorts.

Elizabeth smiles and shakes her head at her sister with sheer amusement at her unhindered virility, “You don’t even know how to spit like a man Rose.” 

“A girl can learn,” Rose states with a shrug of indifference.

“You had a really big day yesterday too, didn’t you?” Rose acknowledges in a small voice, as if speaking louder will betray a secret that is best left unsaid. 

“We both did,” Elizabeth says, motioning down to Pearl exploring the new ground in front of her.

“When’s the funeral?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask Catherine that and I don’t know if Cal knows,” Elizabeth mutters.

“Is that the time?” Rose announces looking at her father’s gold pocket watch. “I have to go! I am meeting Emily, she isn’t so bad you know, and the other girls who graduated. They invited me to see a Nickelodeon. A small group of Best Society women going to see a nickelodeon, have you ever heard of such a thing B? Isn’t it scandalous! You can come if you...” 

“I am happy that you are going to do something fun. I am a family woman now Rosie. I have fun with children. Go, have fun, I will see you to-night,” Elizabeth declares.

“See you to-night!” Rose calls back with boundless excitement, like a frolicking doe, before galloping away.

All Elizabeth can see are both Ophelia’s and Rose’s backside and the flecks of mud spraying in their haste.

“Just you and I Pearl. Are you wanting to go back or do you want to stay here a little longer?” Elizabeth asks with thoughtfulness.

“Thtay,” Pearl replies, as her hands explore a big mossy boulder. Her small fingers weave through the fine curled fibres of patched moss as if it is hair itself.

Elizabeth notices the smooth granite boulder has flecks of white and black in the speckled stone that shine when the shy sun appears. She helps to support Pearl with a wistful smile as the anxious girl attempts to clamber up on the slippery rock.

~

Lovejoy hears the faint sound of a galloping horse and runs in the thundering direction, arriving just in time to see a very familiar horse come out of the bushes. ‘Well, well,’ he thinks, ‘they can’t hide from me.’ 

~

Elizabeth and Pearl are listening to the sound of wingbeats and bird song. The land and pond are still and quiet. All of the noise and action is happening beneath the nurturing soil.

Elizabeth sees a pointed rock by the waters edge as if it is a beckoning finger of land.

“Come Pearl, come sit here with me,” she encourages, as she sits on a log by the inviting earth. She reaches her hand out. Pearl takes it and sits on her lap. Elizabeth’s warm arms encircle her as her wool cloak surrounds them, encircling them with its auric fibres.

“I know why your mother named you Pearl,” she murmurs, into her golden wisps. 

“Why?” 

“Do you know what a pearl is?” 

“Me!” 

“Well, yes. A pearl is also something very rare that an oyster creates. An oyster is a shelled creature that lives in the ocean. It can also live in fresh water like rivers.

“Anyway, the oyster filters sand and rocks and other minerals. Sometimes a small grain of sand will get stuck and the oyster will protect itself from this object. It will keep polishing this piece of sand or rock with the nutrients from its food.

“Over time, after all this polishing, the grain of sand turns into a pearl. Do you understand?”

Pearl shrugs as she sucks on her dirt stained fingers. She spits the potent distaste out with a spraying flourish as she bends over, creating ripples over the still pool with her spits of distaste.

Elizabeth laughs and pulls the small child back onto her lap, wiping her slobbery chin covered with flecks of earth.

With a voice as soft as a caressing wind Elizabeth shares, “Your mother knows you shine Pearl. You were born into certain circumstances that would have been very difficult to survive in. She knew, she knew, that you are strong and special. You have joy and an open heart. You are adored Pearl. She wanted you to rise above the dirt and grime of your class and shine like the gem you are.”

Pearl does not understand what Elizabeth is saying. She only knows that she misses her mother. “I wan ma,” she cries in a distorted hum like a mew of a lost kitten.

“I know you do Pearl, I know you do.” 

“The tel’ me. The thay I thine.” 

“You do shine. We all shine. Each and everyone of us shines in our own unique way, and sometimes we can shine on our own, and sometimes people help us shine,” Elizabeth shares. 

“I thine, do ma thine?” 

Elizabeth holds Pearl’s soft chin in her hand and both of their blue gazes meet, creating a mystical ocean in their depths. With effortless gentleness and authenticity Elizabeth says, “Your mother is shining brighter than ever.”

“I mith ma.” 

“You can miss your ma all you want sweetheart, just don’t forget to live.” 

“Live?” 

“Yes, like going on adventures, or doing something quiet. Don’t let joy not enter your heart. It’s alright to miss your ma and be happy too.” 

“I live now.” 

“That’s right, you are living now,” Elizabeth affirms with a soft smile and dreamy sigh as Pearl giggles and starts to run circles around her.

Pearl wants to run farther but she stays close to Elizabeth’s green velvet skirt, feeling safe by Elizabeth’s side.

“I love you,” Pearl chirps and runs into Elizabeth’s legs embracing her strong trunks.

“I love you too Pearl,” Elizabeth coos before picking her up and walking out of the hidden glen by the lake knowing that they are not alone.  
  


~

Lovejoy walks to the brambles and follows the fresh hoof imprints in the moist soft mud where Rose and Ophelia emerged from. ‘I found them, I always find my suspects, except one, I do not talk about that one.’ He cannot make out what is being said from his forested position, he just sees their green and white skirted profiles. He sees Pearl run circles around Elizabeth and watches them embrace and walk towards him with Pearl clinging onto Elizabeth’s neck not wanting to be put down. 

~

Elizabeth recognizes Lovejoy’s burly and arrogant stance in the forest’s edge before them. She can practically feel his smirk of satisfaction as if it is mist from an approaching waterfall. ‘I am most certain he sees us, but does he know that I see him? That is just confusing. His footsteps are too loud for this glen as he approaches.’

“Good afternoon Lovejoy,” she calls from the path through moss crowned rocks. ‘Might as well, he is being too obvious anyway,’ she grumbles in her head.

“You knew I was here? I did not think you saw me,” Lovejoy states with undisguised surprise.

“I did and I heard you too. You found us I see,” Elizabeth states, as she journeys back to the main path of the park ahead of Lovejoy, distancing herself from the sacred glen and from walking beside Lovejoy’s imposing figure.

“I did. I do not know whether to tell your fiancé of your mischievousness Miss DeWitt Bukater.”

“He will probably be happy I am keeping you on your toes Mr. Lovejoy.”

“Of that I have no doubt.” 

“Here you go sweetheart. We are all out of the brambles, no way you can get your pretty dress dirty now,” Elizabeth chimes in a light voice, as she moves to set Pearl down. 

“No, no, no, I thtay,” Pearl responds sounding close to tears, “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

“I no let go, let go you die.” 

“I am not going to die, not now anyway.” 

“I no wan you to die li ma.” 

“I know you don’t want me to die like your ma,” Elizabeth repeats, continuing to walk with Pearl in her arms, her little legs wrapped around her slowly widening torso.

“I can take the child if you would like,” Lovejoy offers beside them.

Elizabeth whips her head around with surprise not noticing that Lovejoy is beside her.

“No I am quite capable of carrying a toddler Mr. Lovejoy.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too Pearl.”

“Do papa?” 

“Does papa what?” 

“Love me.” 

“Your papa loves you very much, he loves to call you Princess Pearl. He has never called me princess. You know how I know that your papa loves you?” Elizabeth whispers with a conspiring grin pulling at her red lips bright with cold.

“How?” 

“Because he gave you a special name. Princess Pearl.” 

“No papa call me pwintheth.” 

“You’re right,” Elizabeth affirms with a firm nod and jaunts to the automobile in silence.

Upon reaching the luxurious vehicle waiting for them Lovejoy opens the door and Elizabeth enters the frigid black leather interior with Pearl in her arms. Pearl whines an inarticulate sound and wipes her eyes and forehead on Elizabeth’s shoulder. Elizabeth rubs comforting circles on her wool covered back. Elizabeth’s voice is soft and has a lyrical note to it, like a waft of breath blowing through poplar leaves.

“To the DeWitt Bukater estate at the end of Seminole Street. Thank you,” she tells Lovejoy.

A new introduction is to be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. 
> 
> As always I invite you to share any of your thoughts or feelings about what you thought about this chapter or the story thus far. 
> 
> Until I share again,  
> Mystic


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